A Fronte Praecipitium, A Tergo Lupi
by Devi Lethe
Summary: Post Dark Fury. When you dance with the Devil, the Devil doesn't change. He changes you.
1. Chapter 1

He looked up from the kill and saw the sight he had most wanted to avoid. She was there, in the doorway, just staring at him. He became aware of the blood scattered across his chest, along his arms, even on his face. His hands, he knew, were drenched. The body was splayed on the ground, limbs unnaturally twisted. He had eviscerated it, spilling intestines across the ground. His boots were black with the gore.

This was it, he realized. The moment he had hoped would never come. She was seeing Richard B. Riddick at his worst, when the kill was not quick, or clean. He had taken pleasure in this one, drawn it out. The poor fucker had screamed behind his gag -- such horrible screams -- and he had enjoyed it. She had seen that too, he knew without asking. She had seen him for what he was.

He stood slowly, unhurried, his face expressionless. She would be the same, he was certain. No changing the past, no reason to apologize. He just watched her with a neutral gaze, waiting for the shock to wear off and the condemnation to come.

He couldn't smell her over the stench of human waste, but he conjured it up in his mind: sandalwood and sweat. Her wide green eyes pinned him down. Subtly, very subtly, he shifted his grip on the shiv so that when she went to scream he could end her with a clean stroke she would never feel.

A small smile came up on her lips and she arched an eyebrow, her eyes flicking down to tell him she had noticed the change. "You asshole," she said, "If you kill me, who the hell's going to help you scrub? This is going to take forever to clean." She looked him up and down fastidiously, her nose wrinkling at the smell. "For that matter, you're going to take forever to clean. And you'll need new clothes. See, if I were bleeding out who'd go to nick you new gear?" She rolled her eyes and turned her back on him -- no fear. "Sometimes you got no common sense at all."

The laughter when it came echoed in peals off the blood-smeared walls.

* * *

Riddick leaned against the doorframe to her bedroom, taking up more space than she thought he really ought to. Jack turned around in her swivel chair to face him. It had been two days since he murdered that moron he caught breaking in and they hadn't spoken of it again. It had taken four hours to get the room back in order, but it would've gone a lot faster if they hadn't been running interference keeping the girls out.

"What's up?" she asked perfunctorily. Riddick would not have come to her room unless he had something to say.

"If you need anything go get it today. We're deep-spacing tomorrow." They had been planet-side for three-days living out of a brothel. An old acquaintance, which Jack had come to realize meant an old fuck, ran the establishment and had offered to put them up in exchange for Riddick's "company." While Jack couldn't fault the hospitality of the hookers, she wouldn't mind leaving all the better-left-unexplained noises behind.

"Really?" Her face brightened at the prospect of seeing all those stars. "You got us a ship?" His answer was an indeterminate sound she took to mean, 'More or less.' She quickly ran through her list of belongings and settled on what should would bring. She'd need relatively few things. She had two pairs of pants, three shirts, and a small selection of undergarments. They lived in a state of poverty, but Jack hardly even noticed. She had Riddick. Everything else was superfluous, really, up to and sometimes including basic necessities. The brothel was high living. A ship would be heaven.

"You need creds?" he asked gruffly, those goggles empty of expression. Ordinarily she kept her room dim so he wouldn't need them but he had interrupted her reading and the lights were on full.

"Nah," she told him, twisting the chair from side to side thoughtfully. "I've got everything I need. How long we going out for?"

"A while," he said, his eyes roaming over the room. He was bothered by something here and he couldn't put his finger on what. Jack was staring off into space, presumably doing an inventory of her supply needs. Her hand reached up to rub her peach-fuzz hair and he noticed that for the first time the face underneath looked feminine as opposed to androgynous. Jack no longer looked like a boy. She looked like a girl with no hair. Again, something about that bothered the man, but he couldn't think why so he shook the feeling off.

She caught him staring - or rather she made an educated guess he'd been staring - and asked, "What?" He didn't respond, disdaining the question, so she shrugged and added, "We need anything you want me to pick up?"

"Yeah, grab a new set of shirts that fit," he told her.

Her eyes widened, shock evident in the way she suddenly froze, "Why?" The distress in her voice was uncharacteristic. Riddick wondered again why Jack had become a boy in the first place.

He felt his frustration building. Why did she have to be so damn emotional all the time? He kept it from his voice when he said, "'Cause. Nobody's going to believe you're a boy anymore. Look in the mirror, Jack. Takes more than short hair to make a boy and we don't need anyone sniffing around to find out why you're faking." He left then, before he snapped at her. Wasn't her fault he couldn't do the comforting thing.

In her room, Jack was doing just what he said -- looking in the mirror. At first she couldn't see what he meant. She had the same face, the same hair, the same clothes. What was different? What had changed? She stared hard, one hand reaching out to trace the outlines of her reflection. And then like a veil had lifted, Jack realized what she hadn't wanted to see. Her chest was still flat like a boy's, but the way her pants sat on her hips was different. There were subtle curves there now that even the baggy t-shirt she was wearing couldn't obscure. She was a little longer in the leg, but the new width of her hips had changed them. Her chicken legs had turned into slim shapes.

Even her bald head had betrayed her, emphasizing her narrow jaw and large eyes. She narrowed those green depths now at herself, analyzing the changes.

"Shit," she whispered, knowing he was right. "God dammit." As she ducked out her window onto the fire escape she stopped and watched the night sky. The atmosphere on this planet made it look green and the stars were more of a phospherescent purple. They twinkled merrily.

As she descended to the street she wondered vaguely if God had a sense of humor, and if He did, if this was His idea of a joke.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack accepted the change in her status with a fair amount of equanamity. When she met Riddick in the morning, she still wore her loose fitting cargo pants, and her heavy boots, but her shirt was a boat-neck with long-sleeves. It was women's clothing, he noted, and besides the cut, she wore it differently.

"Happy now, Riddick? I'm a proper fucking lady," she said slinging her bag over a shoulder and skipping the last few steps on the stairs. She flopped down on the couch with a cheerful little hop over the back. Her voice was bitter but it lacked any real bite. The kid was just being obnoxious. He did what he always did when she was like this: he ignored her. The eggs were a luxury, and not one he intended to waste on teenage temper tantrums. Cooking over a hot plate was chancy business anyway and he was going to be seriously pissed if he busted a yolk.

"What did you do with your old clothes?" he asked. Couldn't have her leaving a trail laying around for any idiot badge to poke through and kids clothes as beat up as Jack's laying around would bring up questions. Like where was the kid who was supposed to be in them? And more importantly, who was that more-likely-than-not-dead-kid with the last time anybody saw the brat?

"I left 'em near some trash bins behind the hospital and smeared menstrual blood all over them first," she retorted. "As you're so fond of pointing out I'm short, not stupid. Everything I brought on this rock is coming off it with me."

Part of him wanted to smack her, but he let the urge pass and flipped his egg. She was in a bad mood. Shit, he'd be in a bad mood too if someone had just told him his cover was blown. And she was probably nervous about having to be a girl now. Fear could make sweetest the tongue sharp, he knew. This was one of those make-it-okay-moments where he was supposed to say something to make the kid feel better. He hated these fucking moments.

Feeling extremely awkward, he said, "You look good." Her blank face and wide eyes were better than candy. He felt a wicked smile curve his lips and Jack turned an interesting shade of puce. Good job, dickhead, he thought to himself, You're flirting with a thirteen year old. He slipped the egg onto a small plate and cracked the next into the tiny skillet. Very unusually, Jack didn't snatch it up right away.

"Uh...thanks," she muttered, suddenly very busy with the contents of her bag. Both of them knew she'd packed it last night. Neither of them felt inclined to point that out. "So, the ship?"

Riddick knew she was changing the subject and he was damn grateful. "Belongs to a smuggling company who jacked it from a rich bitch on Seti IV." The blush vanished in the face of intellectual curiosity and her skin was its usual pale cream again.

"You fly, I find?"

"You got it." While he was getting them off the ground, it was Jack's job to get rid of any tracking gear hidden in the underbelly of the ship. Skinny as she was she didn't have to take anything apart to get to wherever the beacons were planted. Saved him a lot of time and left the ship looking much more respectable. Meant they could sell it again if necessary. It also meant she carried her own weight, something he could respect. "Once we break orbit we'll make mock stops, change the registration and refuel."

"Going to clue me in on our final destination yet?" she asked blandly. To her credit there was no accusation in the question, just some wry amusement. They both accepted she had a higher risk of capture and consequently he never told her where they were going until they were underway. Safer. For him. Jack had never grudged Riddick his self-preservation, and he knew she had back up plans for getting by until he could find her, or for hiding if she didn't want him to. He could probably find her anyway if he really wanted, but just like she didn't grudge him his self-preservation, he liked to think he wouldn't grudge Jack hers either. At least he probably wouldn't. Unspoken, the option to go at any time existed for them both. No questions asked. No strings attached. Also unspoken was the fact that each day they woke up with the other, they had chosen to stay together.

He didn't bother answering the question, justed slipped a second egg onto the plate and started another.

"How many of those do I get?" she asked shrewdly.

"Two."

"And how many do you get?" Her eyebrow was somewhere near her hairline.

"Four." Her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to argue, but he went on, "You see, I brought home this half dozen, and that makes these my eggs. Bird eggs are pretty damn hard to get out here in the middle of a water-based system. It could be our last time getting eggs for a while, so my giving you two is a generous offer and the more I think about it, fuck, Jack, maybe I'll just keep all six to myself." Her jaw snapped shut and she glowered half-heartedly, but took the two eggs without complaint. She knew he wouldn't really deny her a share. When she was feeling amiable she'd even admit that he was bigger and needed more protein. It was just his way of keeping her from trying to negotiate for more. He also knew the hint would keep her quiet, trying to figure out where they'd be going that they wouldn't be getting eggs.

As she took her first bite the glower melted into a gleeful grin. Jack was like that, mercurial.

"What kind of bird is this anyway?" She was taking small bites, savoring the taste. She didn't really need an answer so he didn't offer one. It was just a way to kill time and stretch out the meal. He noticed she was saving the yolks for last.

He finished up the last one and dug into his share, also saving the yolks. He had a strong suspicion Jack was holding out on some bread, and she was. Riddick didn't ask for any -- he didn't have to. When she pulled it out she broke the roll in two and gave him his share. She wasn't even stingy, it was an even split.

When they were finished they cleaned their plates and utensils without speaking. Sometimes with them there was no need to fill the silence. She finished first and when he was done Jack arched a brow at him -- her favorite non-verbal expression.

He answered in kind with a small, anticipating smile. "Let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

Jack felt the fist connect solidly with her back. All the breath heaved out of her as she slammed into the concrete and her head spun the room in gyrospheres. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, automatically scanning for the asshole who'd slammed into her from behind. A bitch move, she thought, taking out a kid from behind. She tried to get her legs under her but she could only make it to her knees. She felt heavy, kind of sluggish, and a dull throb permeated her chest. Her arms and legs were shaking uncontrollably and it felt like there was a wad of cotton lodged just below her collarbones. She teetered precariously, throwing herself forward onto all fours.

"Riddick? Riddick, I can't breathe," she said, or tried to say. Her lips were numb for some reason so it was hard to get it out clearly. She tried again. "I can't... I can't breathe..." The blood pooling on the floor made her lose her tennuous balance. Her elbow slipped in the growing puddle and she hit the ground again, less heavily than the first time but still heavily enough. She couldn't think straight, the ground was so cold. Maybe I hit my head, she thought dimly. Then she didn't think anything because the world exploded into pain as strong fingers curled around her shoulder. She wasn't sure, but she thought she might have screamed.

From far away Jack realized she'd been picked up. Hard arms pinned her to a hard body. Light reflected off the black of his goggles.

"Riddick..." she mumbled. Her throat felt like it was stuck mid-swallow. Full, but empty. The feeling was kind of ticklish. It made her want to laugh but there was nothing funny. The cough caught her by surprise, forcing viscous liquid into her mouth. The taste of copper and acid coated her tongue. The truth seized her: it wasn't a fist. "Oh god..." The blood on the ground, the blood in her mouth... She let her head loll forward and caught sight of torn flesh.

I've been shot, she screamed. Only she didn't scream. She passed out.

Richard B. Riddick, cold-ass mother fucker, son of a bitch extraordinaire, tossed her over his shoulder and made a break for the doors. It was a miracle he didn't get shot. It was fucking annoying the kid was bleeding out. His shoulder connected with something fleshy and yielding, forcing it into the wall. His foot kicked the control pannel and the door slid shut behind him. He kicked it again, much harder, and it shorted out. Lucky for them both. That didn't always work. He turned his attention back to the meatsack he was leaning on.

"It's your lucky day," he growled at the guard standing between him and his exit. "I'm in a hurry." The man went pale as Riddick smiled, his hand groping the table beside him for the gun he couldn't find. "Looking for this?" Riddick brought the weapon up and fired. The guard hadn't even hit the floor before the convict was past him running down the last stretch of hall between them and their ship. The cargo bay closed with a very satisfying gush of pressurized air. He tossed Jack into the co-pilot seat and initiated the launch sequence. This was a high-end personal ship. It came with all the little luxuries, like automated take off. More importantly, it gave him time to save her life.

The ship wasn't big enough to have a med bay, but it was stocked with good supplies. The kid was going to stay passed out, he rationalized, so he didn't have to waste time on pain killers or formulas for appropriate dossage of minors weighing less than a big gauge. The shot was clean, and it had only grazed her lung. If he could stop the bleeding, she'd be fine. Shitty for a month or two, maybe, but fine in the long run. Riddick sighed, he hated stitching. Too monotonous, but he sat down and got to work.

Not once in the entire ordeal did it occur to him he could simply leave her or let her die. Not once. The significance of that fact was lost on him at the time because in the same way all his life tenets were uncluttered, this too was simple: he wouldn't let Jack die. If she died in the natural course of things, so be it, death happens, but if it was within his power to save her, Richard B Riddick, cold-ass mother fucker, son of a bitch extraordinaire, would do whatever it took to keep that little heart beating.

Even if it was boring as hell after the fifth stitch.

She woke up four hours later as they cleared the last planet in the system. He heard the change in her breathing when she started registering the pain. Her chest felt like it was shredding everytime she inhaled. Dimly she registered they were spinning to maintain gravity. She could always tell the difference between planet gravity and artificial gravity. For the time being she decided to interpret that as evidence they had gotten away.

Her hands didn't seem to be cuffed to the table she was on either. More good news. Not that she'd be getting up at the moment regardless, but it was nice to know the theoretical option existed. Then again, there was an I.V. attached to the back of her left hand. Maybe they felt it would be a sufficient tether. There was one sure test.

"Riddick?" Her voice sounded terrible. How long had it been since she'd water? Her eyes ached and felt swollen. She didn't even try opening them.

"What?" His rumbling voice was the best thing she'd ever heard in her life. One big hand slipped under her neck and for a moment she was confused. Comforting touch was not one of his skills, but she realized as he tipped her head up that he was giving her something to drink.

"We didn't get caught?" she asked between sips.

"I wouldn't be sitting here if we got caught," he answered. She made the mistake of laughing. "You shouldn't do that," he added mildly. The tone of his voice told her quite clearly he knew exactly how bad that had hurt, and that he had deliberately let her do it before warning her.

"Asshole," she hissed.

"Be glad you're alive," he purred. "You got lucky, but nobody lives a long life counting on luck." He was right, she knew and she felt bad for being bitter. He'd saved her life. Again.

Still, she wasn't about to apologize. She settled for croaking, "Thank you." Despite lacking a real voice, the raw emotion was there, and he heard it.

"Go to sleep, Jack." He stayed by her side until he was sure the rhythm of her breathing was genuine. He'd intended to plot them a stop on Aquilon 3, but now he wasn't quite certain. He pulled up a map of nearby star charts. Maybe something closer.

Centurion was much closer, and it was the kind of place where no one looked too closely at anyone else. It was the kind of place Riddick would blend in; the kind of place where a thirteen year old girl with gunshot wounds would not only go unreported but very likely unnoticed altogether. It would do as a first stop.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack was dreaming. She knew she was dreaming, but she couldn't make herself wake up. She was walking back to her house, the same route she always walked. Stupid, she knew now. Predictability was one of the seven deadly mistakes, but in the dream she was the old Jack who didn't know any better. There was the market she'd loved to browse, but that day she hadn't stopped to look. She'd wanted to get home fast so she could tell her mom about her new friend -- the first friend she'd made since Tam disappeared. She was ahead of schedule, and not stopping in the market meant she was going to get home nearly an hour early.

What it really meant was that it would be an hour and a half before anyone suspected she was missing. Knowing it was coming only made it worse.

As she crossed the mouth of the alley the hands grabbed her. That was how she remembered it. The hands, like they were living things without a body. It helped if they were just hands and not a person. Made it easier to live with. Jack didn't lie to herself about what really happened. She knew who had grabbed her, but thinking of him as a person gave her something to hate, and Jack didn't want to hate him. She wanted to not care at all.

The hands didn't waste time covering her mouth, they just squeezed her throat shut. Jack knew how to break that hold now. Riddick had shown her the way to force the elbows to bend and loosen the grip, but it didn't change the dream. She still had to wait the three minutes it took her to black out. Jack had this dream so often she was almost used to the feeling of strangling. Almost.

The dream changed and she was blindfolded, tied standing up stretched out on her tip-toes. She was freezing cold -- he had thrown a bucket of ice water on her -- and she mercifully couldn't feel her hands anymore, or her broken fingers. The cuffs had been too tight and chaffed her wrists while she struggled. Doing so had only made it worse, naturally, but Jack didn't know to bide her time then. She didn't understand that it was better to take the abuse and save your strength for the moment when escape is a real possibility. She ruined her own chances. After three days, she was waiting to die.

She'd told him the truth: she didn't know where to find her brother. Tam was gone and no one knew how to find him, but the merc didn't believe her. She wasn't sure if the rape was part of the plan, or just the sick bastard's perversion, but the door opened, and closed, and a moment later she felt his fingers slip into her. He bit her neck hard enough to draw blood, worked himself for a minute or two, worked her for a minute or two, and then he was in her. Jack cried out -- only once -- but she didn't cry.

As always, when she woke up from that, her palms were bleeding. She'd clawed herself with her nails. When the dream started, Jack had religiously bitten her nails to the quick before she went to sleep, but that left her with bloody fingers instead of bloody palms so she stopped after a week or so.

Riddick didn't ask any questions. Her business was her own. He tossed her a roll of gauze and let her dress her hands. Jack was intensely grateful Riddick never made her explain. Her mother had asked about it when she came out of stasis. She told Jack the doctor had informed her of her injuries -- all her injuries. Jack had answered, "He wasn't much." It was true, but it was also a lie. Her mother never questioned it because she didn't really want to know, but Jack didn't think she could lie to Riddick if he asked her. Thank God he never had and she didn't think he ever would. They both understood. Some things you just don't talk about with anyone.

When her hands were wrapped up, Jack took her place in the copilot chair. "So we're going to Centurion?" The space station was rendered holographically above the control pad. Riddick looked over at her in mild surprise. "What? You didn't think I'd recognize it?" She didn't laugh like she normally would have. It still hurt too much.

"My mistake," he said, leaning back in his seat. "We're going to stop and refuel there. Stock up on med supplies." Jack nodded. Her bullet wound was healing, and they'd had enough supplies to properly keep it on the mend, but they'd also seriously depleted their medical stores to do it. She'd spent the last two weeks in bed and had begun walking around only two days prior. Riddick had taken advantage of the down time to teach her about propulsion systems from basic combustion engines to nuclear generators and gravity converters.

Jack had never been more motivated to recover from an injury in her life.

Riddick's hand glided smoothly across the key panel. Centurion disintegrated. "Our new registration is going into effect in seven standard hours. From now on this is the Ziggurat. We're from the Duggar system. Your name is Sydney."

"Sydney?" Jack looked at him with disgust. "Really?" As always, Riddick was unmoved. She heaved a sigh. "Okay, sorry. Shouldn't have interrupted." She squirmed a bit in her seat as if the name itself had made her uncomfortable. "So who are you if I'm Sydney?"

"I'm your Uncle Robert."

Jack sat back up in her chair. "Well, at least I'm not the only one with a stupid name." The faint smile she usually wore surfaced again. "What are we really doing there?"

Riddick appreciated Jack's curiosity. An active mind was the best defense and Jack was an attentive, if cheeky, pupil, but sometimes her annoying tendency to see even what he wanted to hide drove him nuts. She didn't need to know his business, and if he told her so she'd back off. She'd also know there was something to back off of and her little radar would be scanning the whole time they were docked. Judging by the acutely attentive stare she was boring into him, her radar was already up and running so the only way to keep her out of his hair was to incapacitate her.

He briefly considered letting an infection set in to keep her in bed, but then she'd be a sitting duck if anyone tried to jack the ship. On Centurion, that was almost a likelihood. She'd end up in the sex trade. Waste of time, really. He certainly didn't have the creds to buy her so he'd have to kill a bunch of cock suckers to get her back. And she'd probably be pissed he let it happen instead of grateful he saved her scrawny ass. Better to get her off his back now.

"Lights, ten percent." Riddick lifted his googles so he could actually see her. She always looked best in ultraviolet and he knew she loved to see his eyes. "We're going to see a contact of mine from the old days. From before I was a con. He won't want to see me."

"But he's gonna anyway," she grinned.

Riddick smiled back at her. "That's right."

Jack's expression sobered. "What do you need me to do?" Curiosity sated for the time being, she was ready to follow his lead for the moment. He knew if he didn't bring her, she'd end up underfoot for the actual meeting. Her curiosity was momentarily sated, not permanently. He considered the possibilities on how to best use her. If she was coming along she was going to pay her way.

Or... she was going to pave the way. Like a gift from Imam's god, the plan bloomed in his mind fully constructed, each angle considered. It was perfect.

Riddick put on his most congenial smile. "I need you to be my bait." Her expression immediately flashed to shrewd. That's my girl, he thought. "Dave just can't say no to a cute kid."

She narrowed her eyes and spun to face him fully. "A cute kid?" She waited for him to nod. "A cute kid who's about to have sex with him or a cute kid with a gun to her head?"

"A cute kid with a gun to his head."

Jack broke into broad grin. "Oh. Well, that's another thing entirely."


	5. Chapter 5

Jack was bored. She'd been in this air vent for almost three hours now, just waiting on this mark to get back to his quarters. They had taken their positions when he went to the chow hall. It was the third standard mealtime, and on a station like this with no day or not, sleep schedules were rigorously adhered to. He'd have to come back soon. When they had gone over the plan back on the ship it sounded like a brilliant idea. Wait for him to leave, climb through the access panel and wait in his air vent. Perfect. Trust Riddick not to mention it would take this guy forever to get back.

Sighing noiselessly, Jack rearranged her cramped limbs yet again. She hoped Riddick was equally uncomfortable. Then again, he probably didn't think of it that way. Unless she missed her guess, he hadn't moved once since he'd taken his place three hours ago. Probably wouldn't be the least bit sympathetic about her aches and pains either.

Not probably, she corrected herself, definitely. He definitely wouldn't be the least bit sympathetic.

He also wouldn't complain. Jack drew in a deep breath, held it for seven seconds, and let it back out. The tension drained from her limbs. In her mind she heard Riddick's voice repeat, "Wait for the opening."

Patience, she schooled herself. Wait for the opening.

Jack absent-mindedly rubbed the scar on her wrist. Riddick had given it to her on their way to Helion Prime. Unbidden, the memory rushed up to meet her.

_"You're going with Imam," he growled, blocking her thrust. They practiced with live blades. He said it was the only way to learn._

_"I won't stay," she said. It wasn't defiance, just fact. Her shiv glinted, reflecting light at his eyes. Diversion tactic._

_"Up to you." He rolled his shoulders in an odd facsimile of a shrug. "If I get you that far, I'll have done my part."_

_"You know in some cultures if you save somebody's life you're responsible for it," she spat, feinting a thrust and spinning around him. She had no hope of overpowering the big man, but she still had a good chance. Smaller, faster, harder to lock down, Jack knew she could wage a war of attrition if she were careful._

_She hadn't been careful enough. Riddick turned counterclockwise to her spin and drove his elbow into her side with enough force to bruise her ribs. She went down, tried to roll away but found his knee on her back and his knife on her neck._

_"And in some cultures people are grateful to be alive and take responsibility for staying that way." He flipped her over, crouched over her body. He was so massive he blocked the light._

_Jack didn't wait for him to help her up; she punched him in the throat. She tried to drive her knee into his groin but he dropped his weight and pinned her down. He'd barely felt the punch, but he had taught her about softening blows. Any hit to a sensitive area of the body, even one that doesn't hurt, will cause a moment of panic -- it was the rough equivalent of hitting a person's soft reset button. The mind goes blank for a few precious seconds._

_She worked to press her advantage with a head butt but he caught her entirely off guard and enveloped her in a bear hug. She cast about her mind to find something -- anything -- she could do, but he'd already twisted her right arm up behind her back. Hissing in pain, she dropped her shiv in submission. If she hadn't, Riddick might've actually broken her arm to prove a point._

_"Feel that?" he whispered in her ear, torquing her wrist further. "That's what let's you know you're still alive. That's what I gave you."_

_"Pain?" she asked, flexing her muscles looking for any weakness in his hold._

_"Yeah, pain." His shiv cut into the tender flesh of her inner wrist making her gasp. "It's a gift." Her left hand found her dropped blade. Wait for the opening, she counseled herself. "Don't waste it." He let her go and she fell back, drawing her arm up and forward in a blind, inaccurate arc. It caught him -- on the inside of his right wrist._

_"Happy birthday," she said, shocked she had wounded him, unsure what his response would be. She was still pinned at the hips by his bulk. For a moment the look on his face was nothing shy of murderous rage and she wondered if he might kill her, not with any real concern. She couldn't stop him so it was a waste to worry. Besides, he was supposed to be teaching her to fight. Fuck him if he was mad she was getting better._

_But he didn't kill her, and a second later her let out a booming laugh. She flashed back to the canyon for one dark instant, but it passed just as quickly._

_"It's not my birthday," he said, "but it's the thought that counts. Give me your hand." He pressed their wounds together, taking her arm in a firm grasp. She answered in kind. It was a strong grip. "You're the first person to take a piece of me in a long time, Jack. Now we've each got a piece of the other." He stood and lifted her up with him. "That's it for today. Let's get some rest."_

_They headed down the hall and Jack watched him from the corner of her eye._

_"I'm still not going with Imam," she added._

_His lips twitched upwards in a smile. "Yeah."_

Jack couldn't help but smile when she thought of it. Whether he'd admit it or not, and he never had, Jack thought that was the turning point when he decided to let her stay with him. Thinking of that moment always reminded her of her resolve. She'd wanted this life, and now she had it. So what if she had to wait in a vent for three hours. He'd let her in a little bit more. Pain didn't matter compared to that.

She took another deep breath and focused her attention on the empty quarters, her ears keen for sounds in the hall. Not much longer, she thought, and settled in to wait for however long she had to. It was her life strategy. Something would happen eventually, and when it did she'd be ready. It didn't occur to her that since meeting him she was always waiting on Riddick, but if it had, she wouldn't have cared.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack needed to shut the hell up. He could hear her sighing from inside the damn wall. There were false panels built into every room for smuggling, but not everyone knew that. It was the perfect place for Riddick to wait, but it was going to be pointless if Jack didn't keep it the fuck down. She was going to blow their fucking cover before Dave got in the damn door. If he ever got in the door. At the four hour mark, even Riddick was a bit antsy, but he wasn't fidgeting his ass off. He decided that when they got back into space, he'd take the time to teach Jack the art of stillness. He wasn't about to carry dead weight just because she was young. She could take it or she could take off.

But Riddick didn't have time to pursue his mental complaint. In the hall he heard the sound he'd been waiting for. The familiar rhythm of combat boots, and this time he heard the tell. He still walked with his weight shifted forward on the balls of his feet to avoid the pressure trigger on the sole. Dave had always liked the knife in the boot heel. It was his favorite place to hide a blade. His breath was adjusted so it wouldn't echo down the corridor. Black ops training. Davey-boy was still on the horse after all this time. Riddick wasn't exactly surprised. Old habits do die hard, but part of him hoped Dave had killed his in the interest of living a normal life. He manifestly hadn't, and that meant this was going to be more dangerous for Jack.

Too late to change the plan. Jack would just have to roll with the punches. The door lock clicked open. Three steps, straight forward. The pause. He noticed the desk chair was shifted. Riddick had moved it, not even half an inch, just enough for Dave to spot.

Her timing was flawless. In one fluid motion Jack rolled forward, her weight caving in the grate. She clutched the edge, her body dropping through, her legs whipping down to slam her boot heel squarely into Dave's skull. If she had been just a bit heavier it could have been a knockout blow. As it was he fell to the ground while she dropped behind him. She fumbled a bit pulling her gun from the thigh holster, but her aim was steady as she pointed it at the back of his head. Overall, it was pretty good.

Dave wasn't unconscious but he didn't move.

Jack's voice was a little ragged, either with adrenaline or fear, as she said, "Let me see your hands. Slowly."

Dave complied, still face down. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Shut up." She moved closer to him, kicking his legs farther apart. Her aim wavered, ever so slightly as she used her foot to check his legs for weapons. Riddick willed her to keep it together. She was almost home free.

She made one mistake, but it was enough. She put her foot down between Dave's legs. He closed his legs and rolled away, pulling her down at the ankle. He drew his blade in the same instant. To her credit Jack didn't panic. When they stopped moving she had her gun aimed steady at his head, and he had his blade on her femoral artery.

Riddick had been taken down that way before. Jack's ankle had to be in excruciating pain, but it didn't show. Her heart was thundering in her chest, but this time it was adrenaline. The kid was fearless. He considered the best way to give Jack a chance to get loose.

"It seems we're at an impasse," Dave said, a small smile on his face.

"Looks like it," Jack answered. "You want to give me my leg back?"

"I haven't decided if I'm going to yet." Dave's tone was light, but he meant what he said.

Jack tilted her head slightly, as if to say, "Up to you." Out loud she said, "I'm not actually here to kill you, but I will if you break my ankle."

"Then I suggest we start talking before we both end up dead."

Riddick chose that moment to slide noiselessly from behind the false wall panel. He intentionally pitched his voice low and said, "What a coincidence. That's exactly why I'm here."

Dave spun around, still on his knees. Jack eyes flashed with pain. Her ankle had gone with him, dislocated most likely, but also free. She pushed off with her left foot and rolled backwards, coming up on one knee. She immediately retrained her pistol on Dave. He glanced back at her, something close to respect in his eyes. She'd impressed him.

"What do you want, Riddick?"

Riddick smiled his most disturbing smile. "Is it so wrong for an old friend to want to catch up?"

Dave snorted. "Why the theatrics, then?"

"Just think of her as a new friend. Had to get your attention, after all." Riddick pulled the desk chair over and sat down, looking entirely relaxed. "Otherwise you might've done something stupid like make me kill you."

Dave started to rise but thought better of it a moment later. He looked over his shoulder at Jack for permission. Jack, in turn, looked to Riddick.

"Wow," Dave said. "He really did a number on you, didn't he?"

Jack grinned. "It's his show."

Dave's face was blank for a minute while he studied her. "I feel sorry for you, then." He turned back to Riddick. "It's your show."

"He can sit on the bed," Riddick said to Jack. He waited for Dave to take his place and added, "If he moves, you can shoot him."

"When did you get so paranoid?" Dave asked.

"When I got locked up on Sigma 3," he purred. It was a lie, he'd always been cautious, but it had the desired effect. Dave couldn't meet his eyes and looked away. Riddick went on, "You owe me, Dave. No two ways about it. You owe me big."

"I had no part in what happened to you," Dave said, but his voice lacked strength.

"But you didn't do shit to stop it either."

His shoulders slumped, and his head dropped forward. He sighed. "What do you want?"

"Couple of things. First, I want Lavezoli."

"Why do you want-"

"No questions. I want Lavezoli. Second, I want you to tell me everything you know about Delroy."

Dave flinched as if he'd been punched in the gut, and metaphorically he had. He gave Riddick a stricken look and the acrid stench of his fear flooded the room. It brought a smile to Riddick's face as he watched the visceral reaction.'

"You can't bring down the Company." He spat it out in a whisper, as if it hurt to speak.

Riddick let out a booming laugh. Jack and Dave both jumped, which only made him laugh harder.

"You can't bring down the Company," Dave repeated. "They'll find you."

"Haven't found me yet," Riddick pointed out.

"Then they'll find her."

Riddick lost his smile, but he wasn't willing to concede the point. Jack was watching them both sharply. It wasn't the time to weigh his fears. "I don't give a shit about the Company. All I want is Delroy, and you're the man to give him to me." Dave still looked uncertain, so Riddick leaned forward and added, "It wasn't a request."

"And if I refuse?"

"Either way I get my pound of flesh. I can take it from the fucker who deserves it, or I can take it from you."

Dave considered for a moment, sizing Riddick up and for a moment it seemed he would choose to fight, but he glanced over at Jack and something like pity came over his face.

_He doesn't want to have to kill her_, Riddick realized.

Still watching Jack, Dave slowly nodded. "After this, we're even, Riddick, but I'll owe you. What's your name, kid?"

"Jack," she answered, frowning. She looked very uncertain.

Riddick didn't like where the conversation was going. He growled, "Keep that muzzle steady, Jack."

She blinked once, like she didn't hear him, but a second later she adjusted her grip and checked the sights. "It's steady," she said.


	7. Chapter 7

The scar was shaping up to be extremely anticlimactic considering all the pain it had caused. Jack twisted around to get a better view of the exit wound in the mirror, but it was just as plain, if a little larger. She was glad it was mostly healed. If her worst gripe was boring scars, she counted herself lucky.

"Lucky and disappointed," she grumbled to herself, turning away and tugging on a sports bra. Riddick would throw a bitch fit if she walked out without a top. Didn't matter that she didn't need one evidently. He'd been weird about that shit lately.

Their quarters on the station were pretty small, but it wasn't as bad as say lying in a vent for four hours so Jack wasn't complaining. There was enough floor space for her to sleep without being scrunched up. She'd slept in worse places, many of them significantly less sanitary. Riddick wasn't in the bedroom. Jack briefly considered taking advantage of his absence to lounge around naked, but decided against it. He'd be back before too long. Instead she kicked up her feet and accessed the main computer. It was a pretty old model, still using manual interface, but it afforded her a bit of privacy. She didn't really want Riddick to walk in on her checking up on this particular topic.

Jack very carefully did not reach into her pocket to touch the medallion. She keyed in the name St. Jude. The first two entries were useless. Some crap about a socialist colony and another one giving a broken history, but the third yielded results. The picture showed an old man with a halo holding an axe. It wasn't exactly the same as the one in her pocket, but it was close enough, and the picture on screen had the same inscription. 'Saint Jude the Apostle' across the top. 'Pray for us' along the bottom.

The article was mostly bullshit about how little was known about the original man, but she found what she was looking for: the reason Dave had given it to her.

St. Jude was the patron saint of lost causes.

_Whose lost cause? Mine? Or Riddick's?_

"What are you looking at?" Riddick asked in her ear.

Jack jumped violently, turning and shoving her chair into his gut. Or trying to anyway. He caught it before it hit him, leaving her crouched between the chair and the console.

"Jesus, Riddick, where did you come from?" she asked. Her heart was pounding in her chest. _Good thing I wasn't naked_, she thought.

He didn't spare a glance at her. He was reading the screen. "Came in the back way."

"There is no back way."

He shrugged. "There is now. What are you looking at?" He leaned over the back of the chair to get a better view of the screen, boxing her in.

"You can see what I was looking at," she pointed out.

He looked down at her. "I want to know why you were looking at it."

_You mean you want to know if I'd lie to you about it_. Jack kept her eyes on his as she said, "I didn't know what you prayed to him for."

"Could've just asked me."

She snorted. "Sorry. I didn't think you'd be up on your saints." She ducked to one side and stepped out from under him. Bent over like he was, they were eye-level but he didn't turn his head to follow her movement. He went back to reading the article. She looked him over appraisingly.

Dust had completely coated the back and belly of his tank top. His elbows were black with dirt, and his pants were torn on the right knee. Overall he looked really scuffed up.

"I'm guessing you got like that coming in the back way," she said.

The big man grunted and stretched out one long arm to turn off the monitor. "Dave give you one of his medals?" Riddick asked.

Jack nodded. "Yeah. Said we'd need the help. Gives 'em away a lot, huh?"

"No, he doesn't." He turned away. "I'm taking a shower. Get ready to train. We're going to the gym."

Jack blinked, but only said, "Okay." She watched him as he crossed the room, his shoulders tense. He stalked into the bathroom and closed the door forcefully. The sound of running water carried faintly through the door.

She logged the fact away with the other anomalies she'd witnessed in him since coming to Centurion. Using her in the attack, for one. Disappearing for hours with no offered explanation and no easily discernable reason. He'd taken to doing that of late, particularly since the other day with Dave. His new issues with their physical proximity, and now his distrust of Dave's interest in her. Riddick was a man of efficiency, and while he was adaptable, he was also a creature of habit. He didn't make changes unless there was some compelling reason to do so.

Asking was pointless. She didn't bother wasting the breath. Instead she tracked him like he was a mark. Jack knew that if she was patient enough -- discreet enough -- she'd get her answer in due time. She couldn't judge where Dave was concerned, so he might well have reason to look at Dave's altruism suspiciously, but the rest? It just didn't add up, and the nature of curiosity abhors a vacuum. Or at least the nature of Jack's curiosity did.

Before beginning her warm up, she pulled out the saint's medal and looked at the old man with his crown of flames. He looked sad.

For some reason, she hadn't put it away since Dave had given it to her and when she checked her feelings she found she still preferred having it on her. Jack tucked it into her pocket where it wouldn't fall out. She flexed and began her stretches, but her mind was on the sad old man. She felt odd knowing she wasn't carrying it. Anxious.

She ignored the sensation and started shadow boxing.

Who was he sad for?

_I'm not a lost cause_, she thought vehemently. Her strikes took on a new anger, coming faster and harder. _I don't need his pity._

Suddenly Riddick was there in front of her, beads of water still drying on his scalp as he caught her fist. He looked smug, and somehow that made her angrier than the thought of St. Jude.

She kicked his instep a lot harder than she had to. He smiled wider.

_I don't need your pity!_ she thought, repeating the strike. It was a mistake. Before she knew precisely what had happened, she felt herself slammed into the ground. Her breath heaved out of her in one choked gust leaving her shaking with weakness and rage. Riddick towered over her, deciding whether or not to press his advantage. He offered her a hand up instead.

"Don't fight while you're angry, Jack," he admonished. "Just end up making stupid mistakes."

"Makes you stronger," she said, reaching up and taking his hand. He lifted her to her feet effortlessly.

"When it's cold, yeah, but not when you're pissed. Makes you easy to read."

"What's different when it's cold anger?"

His smile was all teeth. "Makes you mean." He dropped the smile, his face going dark as he stepped away from her. "Let's go. I want to show you the new exit."

Jack's eyebrow shot up. "Didn't you just clean up? Actually, never mind, you probably got all the dust out last time."

Riddick looked over his shoulder with his standard smile back in place. The dark look was gone. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and pulled the coin from her pocket.

"Pray for us," she read, tasting the words as she said them. A smile tugged her lips. "Don't bother," she said, and left it resolutely on the dresser.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack was shaping up to be one hell of a killer. Graceful and efficient, her limbs were fluid and strong, carrying her effortlessly through the routine. She executed the lethal strikes without hesitation. It was beautiful to watch. Her natural talent was easy to spot even through the inexperience.

Riddick stalked around the mat restlessly. He couldn't stand still.

Jack came to a stop and smiled brightly at her mentor. He remembered being in her position, going through the killing motions flawlessly. Her heart was pounding in her chest, exhilarated. Her big green eyes were joyous. It made him nauseous to see the shining pride in her expression, but he didn't know why.

Riddick fought the urge to hit something. He hated feeling out of control.

Like a switch had been flipped the smile vanished from Jack's face. A worried crease appeared between her eyebrows. "What's wrong?" she asked.

_Nothing you did, Jack. _Aloud the big man answered, "Nothing. You did good." He turned away from her anxious face. She should feel proud. Grown men couldn't do some of the shit she'd learned. She deserved to enjoy the moment. He just couldn't feel happy for her, and he didn't know why.

"Okay." Her voice was muted, quiet. The joy was gone.

_Great, and now I'm the asshole again,_ he thought. This time he did hit something: the punching bag. It jack-knifed back and forth violently a few times before he caught it. He intentionally let it hit him the wrong way and the sting burned his left-side. Felt good. He did it again, striking the bag hard and catching it off-center. He wanted to feel more pain, inflict more pain. He wanted to part flesh beneath a knife.

"Ri-- Uh... Uncle Robert?" Jack's small, uncertain voice was too much for him, especially since she kept to their cover in case they were overheard. Always attentive. Always following his lead.

He barked, "What?"

She shifted uncomfortably and changed her posture. Slumped shoulders, head down, weight on one foot off balance. Submissive. "Nothing," she said. Without looking at him she slunked out of the gym. Even in her shame, she walked the way he'd shown her: footsteps muted, noiseless.

"FUCK!" he shouted. This time when he hit the bag it lifted off the hook and landed on the floor several feet away. "God dammit!"

"Bad day?" Dave asked from the doorway.

"I'm not in the mood, Dave." Riddick turned to face him, radiating menace with every inch.

Dave ignored him. "What's wrong with her?" He jerked his head in the direction Jack had gone.

"What the fuck do you care?"

Dave's smile was entirely carnivorous. "She's an interesting kid."

"She's none of your business," Riddick growled.

"She could be, if she wants to." Dave leaned casually against the doorframe. His body language said casual, but his eyes never left Riddick. "She's good," Dave added nonchalantly. "Maybe as good as you were."

"You want to tell me anything else I already know?"

Dave's eyes narrowed, shrewdly. Just like Jack.

Riddick felt the rage well up, hot and raw.

_Get a hold of yourself. _Drawing in a deep breath, Riddick let the tension flow out of his body, smiling languidly. He crossed his arms.

Dave dropped his pretense of being casual. He stepped inside, committing to the conversation. "It bothers you, doesn't it? That she's good."

Riddick reminded himself he couldn't drop his guard either. Dave was too good at reading his opponent.

Riddick stepped closer to Dave and said, "Why should it? I'm the one teaching her."

Dave laughed a little, cracking a big smile. "I don't believe it. You feel guilty."

Riddick was across the room almost before he realized it and stopped just short of actually hitting the other man.

Dave threw himself backwards against the wall. It would've been too late, but he moved pretty quick for a guy who hadn't seen a real fight in years.

"Christ, Riddick, I wasn't being serious."

"Convicts don't feel guilty," Riddick said, looking the other man over and moving away. It wasn't the time for a fight, and he wasn't ready to kill Dave. Not yet. Riddick stalked out of the gym, his head pounding. Catharsis denied was painful.

"But then, you never really were a convict, were you." Dave watched him go warily and waited until Riddick was far down the hall before he called out, "She can't be a kid and a killer, Riddick. You can't have it both ways."

He knew Riddick would hear it, and he wanted a lot of distance between them when he did.

Jack wasn't in their room, or the mess hall, or the viewing room. Riddick was just about to give up on finding her when he had an epiphany. At either of the stations poles there was a small room with a clear roof for stargazers, and sure enough, Jack was in the far pole watching a nebula. The room was empty except for her. Not many people still liked staring into space. They'd already been to it.

She didn't look at him when he came in, but he knew she'd seen him because the look on her face changed from serene to pensive. He didn't sit down, just stood behind her so she was almost staring up at his face. Didn't quite block her view, though.

"Can I help you?" she asked. It was a sarcastic question, but he knew she meant it.

"Nah, turns out there's no fixing me." A half-smile tugged at his lips.

She snorted. "Who knew."

"Sorry I was a dick, kid."

She shrugged, her eyes flicking to look at him for a second before going back to the stars. "No big. Why were you such a dick, though?"

"Truth is I don't really know."

She blinked. "You don't have to lie, you know."

He lifted his goggles so he could really see her. It was dim enough that the light didn't hurt his eyes. "You think I'm lying?"

"I know you don't like that Dave is nice to me."

"You're right, I don't, but that isn't why I flipped in the gym." She looked like she was biting her tongue on something, so he added, "Spit it out."

She hesitated and then asked, "Why does it bother you he likes me?"

"You're short, Syd, not stupid. You think he's being nice because he's a fucking altruist?" Riddick sighed and put his hand on her shoulder. "He wants something, and I don't know what but it probably ain't anything you want to be a part of. Everybody wants something, kid. You forget that, you're asking to get fucked."

She looked at him again. "What do you want from me?"

_What do I want from you_, he wondered. It felt like an important question, but like so many things lately he didn't have a real answer.

"I want you to come downstairs so I can get some sleep instead of worrying where you are," he said.

Jack gave him a faint smile. "Can I sleep on the bed tonight?"

He noticed again the femininity of her features and found himself vaguely uncomfortable again.

_She doesn't get it_, he reminded himself. "Don't push your luck, Sydney."

Jack frowned and stood abruptly, but the tension between them was gone. "I don't count on luck."

"Good, because it's a shitty survival strategy."

That night Riddick dreamed he was walking in a desert. Fry was there, but he couldn't understand what she was saying. He woke up feeling disturbed and before his brain caught up with his body, he'd rolled over onto his stomach and reached down to touch Jack's face. She reached up to break his wrist but realized it was him part-way through the motion. Her eyes fluttered open, still asleep.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Go back to sleep." She nodded and rolled over, still holding his hand. He didn't pull away.

"Night, Riddick," she mumbled.

"Night, Jack."


	9. Chapter 9

You aren't supposed to feel pain in dreams, or at least Jack had heard as much from someone. Probably Tam, when they were young. He always knew odd things like that, but her dream at the moment was extremely, extremely painful. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she was in a desert. Sand whipped through the air in every direction, taking off pieces of skin as it collided with her. She wasn't sure how long she'd been there -- it felt like ages -- but she hoped she wouldn't sleep too much longer. It wasn't a pleasant dream, but somehow it wasn't a nightmare either.

Just as she was starting to forget where she was, to forget everything but the sensation of being scrubbed away she felt something thrust between her lips and a heavy liquid coated her mouth. It stuck to her throat, but it took away the feeling of the sand. Another swallow and she became aware of her body stretched out on the sand. Another and another. Jack blinked open her eyes and pushed the water skin away. The tall woman holding it obligingly took it back. The noise from the wind dropped off sharply and the silence seemed oppressive in the sudden absence.

She smiled serenely down at Jack's face, seemingly unaffected by the sandstorm. Her braids dangled around her face like vines, the only still thing in sight. Her mocha skin was the same color as the sand and sky making her seem curiously indistinct.

"Hi," Jack said eventually.

"Hi," the woman answered.

The woman didn't seem inclined to say anything more so Jack sat up and was surprised to find she felt no discomfort. She frowned and squinted into the storm. The woman offered her the water skin again but Jack pushed it away and stood up. She took an experimental step forward, staring hard and saw it -- there were shapes moving in the distance.

"Who are you looking for?" the woman asked.

Jack turned to face her. "I don't know. Who's out there?"

Smiling beautifully the woman said, "The dead." Her teeth were bright white.

"I know lots of dead people." Images of Shazza, Fry, Paris, Johns, her brother flooded her and she felt her eyes well up with tears, but she didn't cry.

The woman nodded. "Are there any you're looking to find?"

Jack said, "No," but she felt uncertain. "Who are you?"

"I'm Shazza," the woman said, and suddenly she was. She had Shazza's long face and curling dark hair. Her skin was still the same sand color, though. More brown than Shazza's.

Jack frowned. "No," she said again, her voice stronger this time. A tiny spark of unease floated into her mind.

"Okay," Not-Shazza answered agreeably. Her hair coiled together to become braids again and her face seemed to dissolve for an instant before resolving into the unknown face from before. It sent a chill up Jack's spine.

"Who are you really?" Jack asked.

"That's up to you. I can only be who you know."

Jack felt vaguely distracted and realized the sound of the wind was in her ears again. "But I don't know anyone like you."

The woman showed all her teeth. "Then I guess that makes me Nobody. Thirsty?" Her long fingers offered up the water skin.

Jack realized she was more than thirsty. She felt parched and couldn't answer. Without so much as nodding she grabbed the pouch eagerly. Again the thick liquid coated her from the inside out, leaving her somehow lighter. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and passed the partly empty sack to Nobody, then blinked. She didn't know how she'd missed it before but Nobody was holding a shiv in her right hand. No, not a shiv, a hatchet. An axe.

Nobody's hair shifted around her face, dissolving into golden locks that framed her face. It was a metal handle with a red grip in Fry's hand. A gun in Johns'. He tossed it to her, flipping it end over end until it wasn't a gun. It was an oar and Jack caught it by the paddle. Dave reached over her shoulder and pulled it away.

"That's mine," Jack said.

Dave just smiled. "You can buy it back if you really want it."

"I don't have any money. All I've got is your coin." Jack looked down at her hand which held the coin and saw red streaked across it.

"That's all you need."

Nobody was there again, beside Jack. Her indistinct hand plucked the coin from Jack's. "Blood has always been the coin of our realm," she said and swallowed St. Jude.

Dave blew away on the wind.

Nobody smiled down at Jack. "Thirsty?" Her hair uncoiled and recoiled, seeming satisfied.

Jack took the sack and swallowed once. She touched her mouth. Her fingertips came away red.

Nobody showed her white teeth. "Blood is important."

Jack didn't sit up, but she did snap open her eyes. Riddick's hand tightened momentarily on her own but when she didn't make any further movement he relaxed back into sleep. Or whatever counted as sleep for him. Jack had her suspicions that he was never really asleep in the way that other people were, but she wasn't sure if it was a prison thing or a Riddick thing. She only half wanted to find out.

_Just long enough to get the eye-shine wouldn't be too bad_, she thought, but even as she thought it, she knew she didn't really want to go to prison. Riddick's stories weren't enough to scare her, but the look on his face when he told them was. If it was bad enough to take Riddick to a dark place, it had to be bad.

Taking care not to move her arm, Jack rolled over onto her back, her eyes penetrating the gloom of the cabin easily in the semi-darkness. She thought again about how much sharper her vision would be if she had shined eyes too.

_Maybe I would've seen that guy before he shot me._ Her free hand came up to brush the scar meditatively, but she stopped before she reached it. In the dark it was hard to distinguish color, but the streak of blood across the thumb was obvious, even to her ordinary vision. She felt her stomach part ways with her lower intestine, or at least that's what it felt like. Something crucial dropped away from the rest of her and she started shaking slightly. With what remained of her faculties she did a quick check on her body and found no injury. She had not scratched herself, or bitten her tongue. Her lips were untouched and Riddick would not have slept through even the faintest injury.

Jack got to her feet slowly so Riddick would have time to recognize the movement.

"Where you going?" he rumbled, his eyes twin slits of mercury.

"Got to take a piss," she muttered, putting a gentle pressure on her arm. She looked down and away to try to mask the expression she knew was on her face.

He held her for a moment too long, his eyes sharp, probing, but then he let her go and rolled over to face the wall. "Keep it down."

She tip toed as quietly as she knew how to the bathroom and closed the door behind her with relief she could barely contain. She didn't want to have to explain. She wasn't sure she could explain, for that matter.

Trying to keep the shake from her voice she said, "Lights 20%."

Partly dried, the streak was that peculiar shade of rust only oxidizing blood manages to take on. She'd seen enough of it to know, and when she put her tongue to it, it tasted like copper and salt. The tremors in her limbs increased and before she could lose all gross motor function, she flipped the water to high and blasted the offending mark away. She left her hand there under the tap until it ached and turned red. The pain helped still her shaking and she went back to bed before Riddick could come looking for her.

She closed the door was the bare minimum of drag and crossed the floor in near silence. She hoped her heartbeat wasn't audible because though it had slowed considerably in the time it took to burn her skin, it hadn't yet stopped beating hard. Sometimes Riddick could hear that stuff. She lay on her makeshift bed with her eyes open, trying to be still and trying not to go to sleep.

Relentless, the night ticked past as it always did, but for Jack it seemed endless as if the station might stay plunged in darkness forever. The quiet pressed in, heavy.

She did not break it.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I swear, I'm alive, and this story is not dead. Just a short little thing this time, but I feel the chapter after this needs to be separate. The wait for that will not be as long. Really. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. There is no better motivation.

* * *

"Where did you leave the welding torch?" Jack's voice bounced around the inside of the ship strangely. Sounded like she was hearing herself say it from somewhere else.

_Probably just echoing off the bulkhead,_ she reasoned, but the sound was nonetheless a bit disorienting.

"It's by the docking ramp," he answered. She could see his boots through the floor grate, but beyond that he was just a murky shape in a chair.

The docking ramp was, naturally, at the other end of the ship. Sighing, Jack rolled over onto her stomach and scooted awkwardly out the way she'd come. It was twenty feet to the access grate where she could crawl back into the cabin. Twenty useless feet, she realized immediately. The acetylene tank wouldn't fit where she needed to go.

"Damn. Do we have anything else I could use to repair that casing?"

He didn't turn away from the console. "Nope."

Jack suppressed her twinge of annoyance and very deliberately did not throw her sparker at the back of his head. "Fine. I'll be back later."

He made one of his Riddick-noises. Not a growl, not a purr, not even an 'mmhmm.' Just some weird noise no one else ever made but him. She took it to mean he didn't care but had listened to what she said. Good enough. With a little noise of her own, Jack levered herself out of the ship's underbelly and opened the hatch.

After only the briefest hesitation she closed it behind her politely. She didn't really want to annoy him. She just... wanted something. A fight ideally. An argument would do. Anything to break the tension they weren't talking about. Lavezoli was late. Riddick was perfectly relaxed, which meant he was waiting for the knife to come at his back. Dave was tense, wondering why the hell Riddick wasn't. Jack was tense, waiting for the stalemate to break. She didn't really care which way it went so long as it did, in fact, go one way.

She kept a fast pace as she walked the corridors. The floors that always curved slightly up had stopped disorienting her after two weeks on the station and she could maintain a good clip. It felt good to put real effort into something. Maybe she'd drag Riddick to the gym later. Or Dave, if Riddick was still being Mr. Inaction. Or maybe she wouldn't bother asking and she'd just start the fight in their quarters. The thought of Riddick's expression as she drop-kicked him in the liver considerably improved her temper. She stopped stomping like she had a grudge against the ground and eased her pace into a brisk stroll.

_No sense in wasting a good excuse to get out_, she reasoned. _Might as well enjoy having something to get done_.

She shook her head as she ascended the ladder to the center column. The gravity was simultaneously stronger and weaker this close to it. Gave her terrible vertigo, but it was the only way to change levels without moving the ship. When the opening popped up she jumped through into the zero-g tunnel. Suddenly weightless, she took a moment to savor the sensation. If she closed her eyes, she could half-forget she had a body at all. If she didn't know she had one, and that it was vulnerable when she let herself lose focus, she might be tempted to drift for a while. She might.

But she'd learned her lessons well, and only let herself drift a moment before she opened her eyes again. It wasn't very hard. Not very.

The column was wide enough for two cargo lifts to pass down without strain, so maybe 15 meters across, with bars secured at each level for individual passengers to catch. Jack took hold of the one beside her and used it draw her body in tight to the wall. At this hour, the column was mostly empty, but it was always stupid to be careless. She needed to get to the fifth level. At the moment it was below her, so with a careful hand, she pushed her body down. She moved her hands to change her direction slightly when she drifted a little out from the wall, but her aim was mostly true. She caught the bar for the fifth level and after another minute, slipped through the opening feet first.

She dropped to the ground in the reinstated presence of gravity.

_I hate that part. _She stood up and felt her bones more keenly, as she always did after experiencing null grav. She imagined having arthritis might feel like this. She was only too happy to move into the outer layers where the sense of pressure lessened even as the gravity increased. She felt much more secure on her own feet as she descended the ladder away from the column.

The first layer held mostly clothing, she knew from experience, and the second was nothing but food and necessities, but the third was the mechanic layer. Somebody would have a smaller acetylene tank, or some kind of laser burner. She didn't have the UDs to buy a laser burner, but she could probably convince somebody to part with it for an hourly fee. If she was very lucky, or someone else was very inattentive, that hourly fee might be zero. That was enough to put a smile on her face and she was tempted to giggle. An urge she suppressed, her eyes passing over the crowd calculatingly. There was no question in her mind it was full of predators. Knowing the threat exists is the first step in beating the fuck out of it, as Riddick would say.

Two guys had been eyeing her as potential mark until they saw her eyeing them. Never go for the hard target when there are easy ones. She came to lean casually against the same wall, her hands in her pockets.

"This layer is spoken for," said the near guy. He was tallish, with dark hair and features. Really nondescript in that cultivated way. Jack decided he was probably the decoy. Lowest possible slot in the gang. He had no real skills, but nobody ever managed to recognize him after the job.

He was also entirely disposable which was the only reason he started talking in the first place.

"I'm not here to compete," she answered. "Just looking for a repair. Passing through."

"Smart," he agreed.

"And the faster I find my laser burner, the faster I can go."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the decoy whisper something to his partner, who whispered back and nodded. Tall-Dark-and-Forgettable straightened up. "There's a little place thirty meters ahead. One of the apprentice's is the worst to get as your mechanic. Scatter-brained. Name of Brian. Ask for anybody else."

Jack didn't nod, but she did push herself away from the wall and roll her shoulders back. "I'll do that. Pleasure chatting," she said as she merged back into the crowd.


	11. Chapter 11

Things shouldn't have gone bad. It was a clean set up. The shop was thirty meters ahead. The foot traffic was heavy without being chaotic. The perfect cover.

She slipped in unnoticed. She picked up the laser burner with the kind of casual indifference people on errands display. No one paid any attention at all to the girl with short hair as she gave a passing wave to the counter clerk. No one. So when she turned the first corner, she should've been in the clear.

_So why the fuck am I tied to this pipe?_ She ran through the job again in her mind, but still couldn't find any point where she'd made a mistake. There was only one answer: she'd been sold out. Tall-Dark-and-Deceitful, she revised. Cock sucker. _Riddick's going to be so pissed._

The slap across her face brought her attention back to the present moment. Sort of. It didn't really hurt, exactly. It dazed her for a second but it was just a hit. Nothing broken yet.

_I really should be paying attention to this._ Jack blinked, her eyes scanning the faces in the room again. Tall-Dark-and-Deceitful had come in while she was zoned out and he was lounging in the corner. Two worker bees hovered on either side of her ready to step in if she got unruly. Six total in the room. They looked bored. Obviously they felt their presence was unnecessary. Good.

Front and center was the middle man. Bottom rung management. He had that desperate look some guys get when they have something to prove, not because they want to but because they live a life of precarious social position. It was good and bad news for Jack. Good news was he couldn't kill her without talking to somebody important first. Bad news was there was no better way to wave your dick around than to show how far you were willing to go for the good of the borough. Right on cue, he chose that moment to backhand her again.

"Let's try this again, kid, who sent you to case our neighborhood?" His voice was pitched low, meant to frighten her. Like a deep voice was all it took to scare the little girl. Obviously he didn't realize how wasted the effort was or he would've skipped to the pain. It just made the entire scenario that much more ludicrous to her. A giggle threatened to escape her.

She made a conscious effort to take the situation seriously. She even had a small measure of success. Middle Man was holding a gun. Not very well, she noticed, but a gun was always dangerous. The four guys on either side of her were armed too, unless she missed her guess. She tested the bonds on her hands discreetly. The rope was tight, but not tight enough. If she popped her wrist she could slip out, but she couldn't take out all four guards instantly. She could down Middle Man and his second, but that still left three arms guys which left her dead or back in this chair.

"No answer?" he prompted.

Jack spat her blood on the floor to clear her mouth, dangerously close to his shoes. "I already told you the answer."

"Tell the truth, then, smartass."

"Told you that, too," Jack said cheerily. Her smile was small, amused, disconcertingly like a certain convict's mocking smile. It unnerved his cohorts in the room but not him. Tough customer, then. He was the real threat, a conclusion he backed up by hitting her again, much harder. Still nothing broken. Jack had taken a lot of beatings in her day, pretty much since she could walk. Body hardening was the technical term for it, but what it meant was that it took a fucking lot of force to do her permanent damage. Not for the first time, Jack was ironically grateful her father was a cockmunch bastard and that her best friend was a cold-blooded killer who liked beating her up.

_Wait for the opening_. She smiled again with the same result, another hard punch across the face.

He leaned in close. "I'm going to punch you every time you smile." His voice dropped even lower. "No one to stop me. No one to save you out here, Princess. You're mine until I'm done with you -- until I get what I want." He stood back, pacing around her. "If you won't tell me now, that's fine. We've got time to get real acquainted. You're a loyal kid, I can see that. It's a good quality. You know what else is a good quality? Knowing when to cut your losses.

"You will tell me what I want to know," he went on. "Hell, if you tell me without too much fuss I might even drop you at a hospital." A lie. "This is your one chance to do this the easy way, girly. After this there's no turning back, and no end in sight until I'm satisfied, so tell me again, who sent you to case our neighborhood?"

Jack looked Middle Man dead in the eye. "When I get out of this, I'm going to skin you alive." Then she smiled.

"Wrong answer." He took hold of her shoulder with his left hand and drove his right into her face. It was the full blow this time, and he didn't let up. Her only reprieve was the time it took him to cock his arm back.

She kept a running tally of how many blows landed where at first but she lost count. Didn't really matter anyway, it was just a way to distract herself. Her mind opened after the seventh or eighth punch. The pain still filled her every nerve ending. It overwhelmed all her senses, but when the waves broke over her, she wasn't there to meet them. There was just a body going through the pain. Jack was gone. She went to that still place in her mind where there was no past, no future, just a sensation that was now. It wasn't a choice to endure, it was fact.

The pain wouldn't break her, and the only thing Jack needed to survive was time. Wait for the opening. Easy enough.

She didn't let herself cry.

* * *

He didn't break her face. Too much too fast meant she wouldn't last long and when she didn't start screaming or crying as the blows rained on her he began to realize getting her to talk would take some work. She might take days to break down, and he didn't intend to lose their best lead by being hasty. He thought they had the luxury of time, and she wasn't about to deprive him of that comforting illusion. The right side of her face was bruised and swollen. She was bleeding from a cut under the hairline, from her nose, and from her lip. And she probably wouldn't be using that eye anytime soon either. Two of his boys looked green around the gills as he pulled off. Chivalrous types. Good to know.

She gathered herself together, bringing the parts of herself she could find back into one piece. She needed to be present mentally for the next part. The urge to sob had died in her gut leaving it cold and hollow.

"That was the first date," he said, pacing around her again. He was weighing his options to determine the best way to pick Jack apart, but to his crew it looked like he was just taking a break.

Jack knew better, and she knew now was the time to push her advantage on the psychological front. A little fear now would pay dividends if Riddick didn't come right away. She made sure her voice was steady when she answered, "I'm sure it's the only way you can get a girl to lay still long enough. Or maybe just the one's you don't pay." He cuffed her idly on the bruised side of her face, but her calm had the intended effect. The pudgy one in the corner looked uncertain. She was grateful to be sitting down so her dizziness didn't ruin the effect. Instead of swaying from the vertigo she could stare directly at Fatty.

"Ready to tell me a true story now?" He wasn't unnerved in the least. Maybe he had seen something like her before, or maybe he just didn't have a lot of imagination. Whatever the reason, Jack knew now he would be a lot more trouble than she'd originally anticipated. Bottom rung management or not, Middle Man was a sadist. He liked pain. More specifically he liked her pain, and she could see now he really liked causing it. Desperate, yes. Stupid, no.

He leaned over her shoulder, one hand closing firmly over her throat -- tight, but not tight enough to cut off her air -- and said, "If not, I could tell one. Maybe the story of how I'm gonna kill you slowly. It's still in progress but I got lots of ideas." The men smirked, reassured temporarily of their control. Fatty looked relieved.

Fixing Middle Man with a glare, Jack spat another mouthful of blood dangerously close to his shoes.

"Dahlven," he snapped, making Fatty jump a mile high. "Get some rope." His hand drifted meaningfully down from her throat to her breast. "I think you're a little too high spirited for my tastes, Princess, but I think after we're done with you, you'll be a little less high and mighty."

Jack waited. When they cut off her clothes, she waited. When they tied her out spread eagled, she waited. Middle Man took a moment to gloat over her before they started, but Jack didn't even look at him. Her eyes passed through like he wasn't there at all, which for her, he may as well have not been. He went at her with his boots for a bit and Jack thought she felt a few ribs crack. Sharp pains spiked through her with every breath at any rate, and his parting kick to her cunt almost broke her resolve to be silent, but she held. When he looked down at her again, she stared past him, cool as a queen.

"Don't hold back, boys," he spat.

They didn't.


	12. Chapter 12

Nobody was looking down into her face, sitting cross-legged leaning over Jack. Jack was once again stretched out on the sands on the desert. Nobody smiled as Jack blinked, her teeth whiter than ever. Her braids hung around her face, again seemingly immune to the wind.

"Hi," she said, her braids rubbing together happily.

"Hi," Jack answered, stretching slightly against a stiffness she felt she should feel. Her body, however, was limber and strong. But it should've been aching… because… Her circumstances came flooding back to her. "I passed out, didn't I?"

Nobody shrugged. "You must have if you're here."

"No water skin this time?"

"Your blood is enough to keep you here, at least while it's spilling." Her dark eyes flicked meaningfully down Jack's body. Sure enough, there was blood on her thighs -- quite a lot of it, actually, prompting Jack to wonder if she had serious cause for concern.

"I'm not dying, am I?"

Nobody seemed to find the question very funny. "No. It takes more than that to kill us." As she spoke her face dissolved and reformed. Her braids unwound to become riotous curls, her features took on an angular beauty, and her dark eyes became green ones between blinks. With some dull amusement, Jack noticed the face-dancing disturbed her less than the last dream, but this face she didn't recognize.

Jack frowned. "I don't know you."

"Don't you?" A small line appeared between her eyebrows. Jack noticed her voice had taken on an oddly harsh tone. "If you don't yet, you will. Should I go?"

"No," Jack said, her voice almost sure. "You can stay." She looked around curiously. "I thought only the dead came here."

Nobody nodded. "They do." She looked to the horizon where dim shapes lurched in the wind. Formless, more like darker patches against a lighter background than anything real, they still exuded silent menace.

"Are you dead?" Jack asked in a hushed voice, scared she might draw their attention.

Nobody shrugged dismissively, her narrow shoulders rising and falling differently than they had only minutes earlier.

_Riddick shrugs like that._ Jack tried to shake off the feeling of familiarity. She didn't know this face. Did she?

"I'm not sure, exactly. You don't know the answer." Nobody's eyes gleamed, like some wild thing catching sight of its prey. Her lips were fuller, too, and her teeth more pearly than white.

Jack wasn't sure why it mattered if she knew the answer, but she didn't think asking would help. She decided she was tired of laying down and sat up. Only she didn't. She went to push herself off the ground but found she had no hands.

Completely unsurprised, Nobody answered her before she had the chance to ask. "Oh, those. You weren't using them."

"So they vanished?"

Another shrug. "It's your dream." She seemed to be impatient somehow, as if she was waiting for something to happen. Her hands were constantly moving, rearranging her clothes, twisting her hair, playing with her hatchet-shiv.

Jack settled for propping herself up on her elbow. "What happened to your axe?"

"Don't have it yet." She must have gotten tired of waiting because she grabbed Jack by her upper-arm and lifted her to a sitting position. With her hands on Jack's shoulders, she spun her around so they were sitting face to face, knees together. "Listen, you need to find your hands."

Jack shook her head. "But I don't know where they are."

An eye roll from impatient Nobody. "Of course you do. Don't be stupid. If you wake up without them you're dead"

Jack opened her mouth to tell Nobody she could fuck right the hell off if she wanted to be insulting, but no sound emerged. In her ears she heard the rising of the wind.

"Shit. There's no time. Here, take mine." And then Nobody was raising her hatchet-shiv, and Jack was soundlessly screaming for her to stop. Nobody stuck the severed hand onto Jack's arm where it took on a life of its own.

Jack saw herself with the hatchet, Nobody's hand on the sand. So much blood, seeping into the ground…

The dead shapes stopped, scenting blood or sensing it. She knew they were coming for Nobody. With an indifferent air, Nobody's face dissolved, going back to her own indistinct one. Her braids seemed to test the air, like dogs sniffing. She seemed unconcerned.

Meeting Jack's eyes, Nobody showed her teeth. "Blood is important, you know."

Jack found herself alone in the dark, her eyes wet from tears. It made no difference her vision was blurry because the room wasn't semi-dark, it was black. No light. She tried to move her hands but they were numb from the rope. Feeling still on the verge of tears, she took stock of her injuries.

Her right eye was still swollen shut, and that side of her face was one large contusion. She most likely had a concussion as well from those little love taps, but it was nothing that wouldn't heal. Two ribs were definitely broken, a third was fractured but not too badly. Besides that she had only minor bruising elsewhere. Not exactly peak condition, but if she could force herself to maintain her balance no matter what her brain told her, she could escape.

She didn't get the chance to plan anything past that. The door slid open with a quiet hiss of compressed air. Jack snapped her eyes shut, partly against the light, and partly to feign unconsciousness. She laid still, listening, hoping for some clue about who it was.

She got one. With a shaking voice she recognized, Dahlven whispered, "Shiva wept…" He came to stand over her. "Just a fucking kid..." He sounded genuinely horrified at what his team mates had done, but Jack put it out of her mind as she drew the man up in her memory. Black jacket, black tanktop, gun harness on his torso and thighs. Big gauge in the thigh holster, right side. He'd have taken the jacket off when he went to his quarters, but not the gun.

Dahlven crouched down thinking Jack was unconscious, but in reality she was dislocating her thumb, prepping herself to slip her left hand free. She knew she'd only get one chance. _Almost... Just a little closer_.

He leaned in to look at her battered face. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Now! Jack slammed her head forward catching the unsuspecting man squarely on the nose. In the same instant she wrenched her hand free and seized his weapon. It hurt, but it was effective. He slumped unconscious onto Jack without making a sound. _Perfect_.

She didn't waste time. Another moment had Jack's right hand free and she sat up, moving Dahlven to one side as she untied her feet and rose gingerly into a crouch. Rushing would only get her killed, and she found that if she moved without turning too suddenly, she didn't get any vertigo. Couldn't do anything about the pain in her ribs, but it was manageable.

He didn't have any shivs on him so the gauge would have to do. She tied his hands securely before she moved across the room to the open door. The hall was silent, the lights dimmed. Night time for the station. Now would likely be her only chance to dispatch them all, because in her current state she wasn't up to a fight. The gun would be too loud, and too inefficient. Same with the rope. Her only option was a shiv, and the only shivs she knew of were hers.

_Fucking great_, she thought.

A small moan caught her attention. Jack spun around too quickly and had to steady herself on the wall, but the gun she aimed at Dahlven was dead on.

_Convenience in a bottle. _

They regarded each other steadily for a moment. In Dahlven's eyes, Jack read sadness, remorse, and pity. She was surprised to find no fear considering he was watching her down a large barrel, but if she knew what he was reading in her, it might have been more understandable.

She didn't bother trying to figure it out.

"Where are my shivs?" Jack demanded. It was a question, but under the circumstances it wasn't a request. He nodded at one of the storage compartments. Without taking her eyes off him, she moved to the indicated locker and checked the contents. The cool feel of her blades was reassuring but she chose only one. She'd only need one for now.

Dahlven looked back and forth between the girl and her knife.

Jack knew she should, but as she moved within striking range she found that instead of a quick slice to the throat, she delivered a quick blow to the head with the stock of the gun. He would be out for quite a while, but he'd live. She didn't bother trying to explain to herself why she left him alive. She had people to kill, a fact that super ceded a moment of mercy. Her footfalls silent, she moved into the hall and did just that, slicing three throats.

With the men dead and Dahlven down, Jack turned her attention to the last cabin. Middle Man's cabin. She'd paused before coming to him, making a stop at the med kit. Per regulation, it was at the end of the hall, clearly marked, as private quarters required. Locked quarters, with a fair amount of inherent sound-proofing. When she finally went in, she came prepared. In her left hand she had three shivs, and in her right a needle.

She didn't bother doing it delicately; she stabbed the hypo into his neck and depressed the plunger all in one motion then got clear. Unfortunately, she leapt back too quickly and she had to steady herself on the wall again, but she was out of his reach when he struck reflexively before coming full awake.

"The fuck!" He reached up with a grimace to extract the needle, his eyes going wide as he took in the situation. "You bitch..." He fumbled with his sheet, struggling to rise, but his limbs had already lost most of their feeling, and a moment later he was out.

"Don't bother getting up," she said. "Did you know you had clinical grade muscle relaxant in your med cabinet? Atracurium. It's a neuromuscular-blocking agent, but without anesthetic, you can feel everything. It doesn't even knock you out. I know you're a slow student so to translate, that means you're mine until I'm done with you. Sit tight, you aren't going anywhere."

It would last about thirty minutes. Jack set to work removing his clothes. They smelled awful, and after struggling for a minute with his shirt she got frustrated and cut them off him instead. Once he was naked she sliced the tendons at every point of articulation; hips, waist, shoulders, elbows, knees, ankles, neck, and wrists. After checking to be sure he hadn't died of shock, she impaled his hands on two of her shivs, pinning them to the bed quite securely for good measure. Chrono said she had another five minutes before it would wear off. She waited politely for him to start screaming.

"How the fuck did you get out?" His voice was ragged, his breathing hard. He reeked of sweat, and now of fear. Jack inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent, aware of the image he found himself face to face with: a bloody little girl, bruised and drunk on the taste of pain. He had left dozens of other raped little girls behind him, she was sure. She hoped he was seeing the ghosts of them all, here for revenge.

"Remember what I said, buddy?" she asked. Her tone was pleasant, warm even; the smile on her face was horrific surrounded by the mess of dried blood. "Come on, I know it's hard to focus, but I said, 'When I get out of this, I'm going to skin you alive.' Remember?" He tensed involuntarily and let out a half-shriek at the pain.

If she had come for him snarling and crazed, it would have been easier for him probably, but she came with a quiet peace and the contradiction was all the more horrible for her youth.

_Kids make the best soldiers_, she thought.

There was no mercy in her as she made the first cut. And the sound he made was nothing human.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thank all of you who are still on board with this. I had real trouble deciding where I wanted to take our Jack, but I think I've finally found a good way to do it. I'm sorry for the long wait, and hope not to do that to everyone again. This is a bit short, but it's what wanted to be said. Updates are forthcoming.

Best regards,  
Devi Lethe

* * *

Jack was dead. That was all there was to it. He was going to kill her when she got back. If she thought she could just disappear for twelve fucking hours she had another thing coming. He wasn't about to let anybody fuck this up. He was too damn close. After all these years of trying he was finally going to get his and she wanted to vanish?

There had been no outgoing vessels in the time she'd been gone, fortunately, so she was definitely somewhere on the station. She wasn't with Dave, she wasn't in the gym, she wasn't star gazing, and she wasn't on the Ziggurat. That left two options: she was sulking, or she'd done something stupid.

On a space station, even a station as big as Centurion, there were only so many hours you could wile away on your own devices. At twelve hours, Jack's wiles were long since spent. And if she wasn't occupied with her own devices, she was occupied with someone else's. Not good.

_I'm locking her in a fucking closet_, he decided. _I don't need this aggravation_.

Riddick cued Dave on the vidcom. His face popped up almost instantly looking oh-so-concerned. "Any news?" he asked.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing," Riddick rumbled, squinting slightly at the brightness.

"Not yet, but I should hear back from somebody by morning. Unless you'll be gone by then."

_Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?_ Aloud, Riddick answered, "I'll be around."

Dave watched him for another minute before saying, "Let me know if she gets back. Out." The monitor clicked off, plunging the room back into darkness.

Despite being good at it, the thought came again to him that he hated waiting.

* * *

Nothing so dramatic happened as blacking out. She didn't lose some mysterious chunk of time, or wake up back in their rooms, but she did seem to be out of her own control. She did what she was supposed to do because that was all there was.

Why had she jettisoned the bloody clothes? Why had she set a magnesium tab on everything she'd touched before she left? Why was she going the back way to get to her room?

Because that's what you do when you've killed somebody. She ought to know. She'd learned from the best.

There was so much blood in a body. She hadn't realized how much, not even when she'd watched Riddick do it. The feel of it on her hands… between her fingers… It wasn't until she stopped cutting that she'd realized Middle Man was already dead – only meat now – and that he had been for a while. She was surprised to find there was no satisfaction in it. Not then, anyway. Maybe someday…

Everything after that was mechanical. Including her response when Riddick grabbed her as she crawled inside their darkened room. When he pinned her to the wall with her arms over her head she was calm. She met his shined eyes fearlessly not because she had no fear but because she wasn't entirely there. She was just meat, too, maybe.

_My arm hurts,_ she realized vaguely. _I should say something._

He solved her dilemma. "Where the fuck were you?"

His voice was quiet. It struck her as odd. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. Anger. Frustration with her for the fact that there was any trouble at all. Actually, she'd definitely been expecting anger. She realized she was ready for him to start yelling, tensed to yell back. This wasn't what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to be mad, and tell her she was stupid, and he wasn't doing it.

Delicate, wet sounds emanated from him. Sniffing. He smelled the blood.

"Are they dead?" he asked calmly.

"Yeah," she croaked. Her voice was rough. She cleared her throat and added, "I'm gonna shower."

He didn't answer, but he loosed his grip on her and stepped back, a darker darkness in the black. She thought he might have nodded, but couldn't be sure.

"You should turn some lights on in here," she added, making her way blindly to the bathroom. "The whole lurking in the dark thing is creepy."

It was perhaps a testament to how changed she must seem that Riddick didn't retort.

_This wasn't how it was supposed to feel_, she thought numbly. There was no sense of pride, no fierce joy, not even something like a job well done. Instead there was a massive emptiness, and she didn't know why.

"Auxiliary lights," she commanded, bringing up the faintest glow possible. In the almost dark, she stripped off her stolen clothes and climbed in the shower.

If she would step out of the stall, and open the door, she'd find Riddick there. She could cry, and hit him, and he'd understand the hollow place she was trying to destroy. He'd tell her what to do, or what not to do. He'd give her dry clothes, and she'd start to feel better. If she would just step out of the stall…

The water ran cold. She shivered.

The door stayed locked.


	14. Chapter 14

He woke up to the sound of a whet stone grinding the edge onto a knife. His eyes focused immediately on the thirteen year old sitting next to him. Her green eyes flicked to him briefly but turned back to the blade in her hands just as quick. Her dirty blonde hair stood out like a fuzzy cap around her narrow face. Her name was Jack, but she wasn't the kid he knew.

"Morning," she said tonelessly.

"Is it?" he asked.

Jack raised her right hand. The blade was pointing at him, and for a second he contemplated her using it on him, but he realized she was pointing at the computer screen. The status light in the bottom right corner blinked red. The "morning" report was waiting to be read.

Without looking at him, she went back to sharpening her shiv. He rolled out of bed and crossed to the console.

Every "morning" the station engineers released relevant information to the inhabitants of the station. It listed things like areas under work, lapsed functions, delays, and headlines if there were any. There were none in this issue, just as there'd been none for three days. No mention of the murders or a search for a killer. No restrictions on take-off. Nothing.

"They'll be looking for us."

Riddick checked the reaction to snap her neck as she leaned her head in over his shoulder. He realized the grinding sound had stopped. And he hadn't noticed. This made four times in two days that Jack had managed to sneak up on him. Four times too many. She shouldn't have been able to sneak up on him at all. Her heartbeat should've been pounding in his ear. Her breath should've told him she was right there, but he'd missed it.

The strange tingling in his gut he knew meant danger tickled him again as he tipped his head towards her. The smell of sandalwood wafted gently off her skin.

"Probably," he answered.

"Not probably. They will." Her tone was flat, and hard. "They won't be coming to turn us in. They'll be looking for blood."

__

Kid's right. If they wanted us in prison they'd report the crime, but they won't do it. This is personal now.

Jack's eyes focused on him, reflecting the light from the screen. "But you already know that, or we would've been gone."

Riddick couldn't help the smile that rose on his lips, but no answering grin came from her. She just watched him for a few seconds before turning away; took up her position on the bed again and went back to the shiv.

For what felt like the millionth time in the last three days, Riddick searched for the right thing to say. He knew he ought to say something -- anything -- to make this go away. He'd been there once, but it was so many bodies past he couldn't remember what it felt like to care when you took a life. He wasn't even sure the guy he remembered as being the first was really the first man he killed. It was just the first kill they managed to confirm.

He remembered looking down at the hole in his stomach from where the 50 cal bullet had ripped out his middle and being surprised that intestines all look vaguely brown when they've been shredded. Sure the streaks of blood on the ground and walls were red, but the actual muck of it looked brown until it touched something else. He'd knelt down and put his hand in it to be sure, and the blood on his hand was red enough. Less slimy than he'd been expecting, too. Not really viscous at all. It felt thin. It was the first time he'd really marvelled at how something so substanceless could sustain something as complex as life.

He didn't think any of that was the right thing to say to Jack.

For the millionth time in three days of wishing he knew what to say, Riddick came up empty.

"I'm going to the gym," he announced, as much to break the sound of her sharpening that knife as to let her know where he was going.

She barely even lifted her chin to acknowledge she'd heard. Her eyes didn't move from the blade in her hands.

The gentle hum of the corridor lights greeted him as the door slipped shut behind him. Some of the tension in his shoulders slipped away, too.

_She makes me nervous now? How fucked up is that? Mr. Bad Ass Convict afraid of a kid. It's a fucking joke!_

He didn't realize he was glaring until the guy walking past turned pale and backed against a wall to let him by. He chuckled, more at himself than the guy.

_What do I have to be afraid of? Especially from her. So what if she's a killer? She's still just Jack._

He heard Dave's voice coming from around the corner and stepped out of the flow of traffic.

"--calm down. So what if he's asking questions? I've got a buyer, he needs work. That's all he needs to know," Dave said calmly.

"You can't string him along for the entire job." Someone new. Someone Riddick didn't recognize.

"Just... tell him I'll see him tomorrow when he gets in, and that I'll explain everything." A pause, and the sound of rustling clothing. "Just relax, Simmons. It's fine. Everything's fine."

"I don't know, Cairn, this doesn't feel right. You're not answering any questions, Butu's men are dead--"

Dave must've grabbed the other man because Riddick felt the slam as he hit the wall.

"What have I told you about minding other people's business?" Dave growled. "Don't! That's what I told you. Don't worry about anything but what I tell you. Got it? Good. Now, what are you going to say when Lavezoli asks his questions?"

In a high pitched voice Simmons answered, "That you'll see him tomorrow and explain everything."

"Excellent. I'm so glad you got that right. It reminded me why I keep you around at all. Don't let me forget."

The little man that fairly skittered away wasn't exactly what Riddick had been picturing. Short, really stocky looking, with dark brown hair and the tanned skin of a solar worker. Simmons didn't notice Riddick at all in his haste to get away from his boss, but Dave's eyes focused on him right away when he stepped out, then narrowed shrewdly.

"Wondering how much I heard?" Riddick asked courteously.

"Among other things."

"You're getting sloppy. Slamming him into that wall? Bad move."

Dave shrugged. "I want my people far away from that petty bullshit, and I don't care who knows it. Butu can fuck right off." He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, relaxing himself as he did. When he spoke again his voice was lower, softer, pitched not to carry. Dave asked, "How is she?"

The question seemed benevolent, but when Riddick glanced over there was something... hungry in Dave's face.

"She's good," Riddick answered.

"Is she?"

_He wants to fix her while she's broken. Make her trust him._

"Yeah," Riddick growled. "She is. I'm going to the gym. You interested?" The thought of beating the shit out of Dave was very pleasing in that instant, but the other man shook his head no. Riddick shrugged and added, "Your loss."

"Maybe. See you tomorrow." Dave walked past him toward the ladder for accessing the center column. Going to the cargo bay to prep for Lavezoli.

"See you tomorrow," Riddick promised. 


	15. Chapter 15

Lots of things used to surprise Jack. Something popping out at her, for instance. Loud noises. Sudden movements. She wasn't sure if those things would still surprise her, but having Dave show up at her door did.

_Riddick's door, really_, she corrected herself. She became aware that a long silence had started. _I should say something._ _What's he staring at? Oh. Right. The bruises._

"Hi," he finally said after a full minute of staring at her face. She knew what he was seeing. The right half of her face was still shaded in purples, browns and sickly greens. The eye itself was shot through with blood. Most of the swelling was gone, though, so at least she could see.

"Hi," she replied. "Can I help you?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," he grinned. He fake grinned. "May I?"

Jack studied him for a moment. His throat was exposed, his pants were thin. She could sever something vital pretty easily. "Sure," she answered, stepping back to let him in. He slid the door shut behind him.

Jack turned her back on him and crossed to the bed taking up her former position. Picked up the shiv. Waited.

Dave settled himself on the chair in front of the vidcom. "Your face looks pretty good," he said. Too casual. "Putting anything on it?"

"No."

"Mm. Must be good genes, then." Dave showed all his teeth. Smiling. "Lavezoli gets in tomorrow."

"Mm."

"Thought you might want to know."

"No, you didn't."

He grinned again. More genuine, but still not real. "I just came by to see how you were doing. Riddick isn't always what you'd call understanding."

"What's to understand? They raped me. I killed them. It's pretty straight forward." Her own voice sounded hard, bitter. There was an edge to it she didn't know. It sounded strong.

Dave had the good grace to look away. "Yeah, well, not everyone could take that and move on. You're tough, kid, but everybody's got a limit. I…" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Riddick's not the only one you can turn to if you need it, okay?"

"Need what?" she spat.

His brown eyes had the flat calm of pity. "Help."

Jack looked at the shiv in her hands. It reflected her mottled face back at her. Her eyes look as hard as the blade. What help could that girl need?

"I think you should go," she said.

Dave stood but didn't move toward the door. "Your first kill shouldn't have been like this. He should've taught you better. Prepared you better."

"I said, 'Get out.'" Her voice sounded weaker in her ears. More like the old Jack. She didn't like it.

And she really didn't like that part of her agreed.

"He didn't protect you."

"It's not his job to protect me!" she hissed. To Dave or to herself?

He stepped closer. "You should be angry. You have every right to your feelings." Closer. "He didn't help you when you needed him most." Closer. "He left you."

_Just like before._ She was huddled in a cave with the holy man, waiting for death. She was wet, cold, hungry. Cramps wracked her abdomen, a constant reminder of fault. The Imam was quiet beside her, steady. She gave a silent prayer to his god to spare him. _No._ She looked up to find Dave standing a foot away.

"He didn't save you." He reached to put his hand on her shoulder…

Jack twisted his wrist so sharply behind his back she probably sprained it, and drove the instep of her boot into the back of his knee. He was driven to the floor, low enough for her to slide her shiv under his chin. She pressed in…

"Neither did you," she said softly into his ear. "Don't ever touch me again." She released him and stepped away. He sagged forward, caught his breath for a second.

Dave got slowly to his feet. He took several steps toward the door before turning to face her. His face was very carefully blank. "Just remember what I said. Lavezoli gets in around 1330."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow." Her voice was hard again, like metal.

_Safe as shivs_, she thought, absently shifting her grip.

Dave noticed, then nodded once as though she'd given him an answer.

"See you tomorrow," he promised, and then he was gone.

Jack sat back on the bed and realized her hands were shaking. As soon as she noticed, the tremors stopped.

_If only it was that easy._ _And why shouldn't it be? Why shouldn't it just stop?_ She turned her shiv over and over in her hands. End over end. Like a hatchet. Like an axe.

"_You can buy it back if you really want it_._"_ She pressed the tip lightly against the inside of her wrist, probing. The veins pulsed obligingly. She didn't press any deeper.

"Blood is important." She sighed, and tucked the shiv away in her side sheath. She climbed off the bed and queued up the vidcom.

_Let's just see who we're meeting._ "Search: Lavezoli, Jeffrey." The search results were all rap sheets and prison files. All classified prison files.

Jack felt a small smile curve her lips. "Let's get to work."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Sorry this update took so long to get out. I've been without internet for quite some time, so I've made this update longer to hopefully appease some of you. I appreciate all the kind remarks from those of you who contacted me. Updates from now on will be more regular and I hope to soon get back to updating once a week, life permitting.

Additional A/N: The lyrics from the end of the first passage are by Mazzy Star from her song "Into Dust." I've borrowed them to suit the mood and highly recommend the song on its own merits.

* * *

Jack fell into the dream this time. Literally. She slumped forward onto the keyboard, but she didn't come to rest on it. She passed through it, down, into nothing, incorporeal. She slammed onto the sands like she'd been pushed.

Nobody was waiting. The Nobody from last time who'd cut off her hands. She was sitting on a park bench this time, looking very pleased with herself and eating cherry red cotton candy -- the old fashioned kind on a dowel-rod rather than a paper cone. It stained her teeth and tongue.

"So it's another one of these dreams, is it?" Jack pushed herself gingerly to her hands and knees. The whole right side of her body ached, just like in the real world.

"Hello to you, too," Nobody answered, tearing off another chunk of fuzz. The sound of the fizzle and pop was audible. Jack realized there was no wind this time, just a peculiar reddish brown fog.

She sat up on her haunches and looked around. Nobody's green eyes followed her movements, like a cat. Jack looked her up and down appraisingly. "Where's the other you?"

Nobody's hair braided and unbraided. "There's only one of us."

It was Jack's turn to roll her eyes. "Right, sure, of course. How stupid of me."

Nobody tossed her hair out of the way to tear off another chunk, again the crackling sound carried, but something was… not right.

Jack frowned. There was a dark shadow behind Nobody that was too big for her. "What is that?" Jack asked.

A crease appeared on Nobody's brow. "What is what?"

The shadow expanded when Jack blinked. It took on a shape. Human. Male. Glowing eyes…

"Riddick? What are you doing here?" Jack felt her brow furrow.

"We met in a desert," he replied, stepping out from behind Nobody. "What's wrong with me being here?"

But there _was_ something wrong with him being there. There was something wrong with _him_.

Nobody smiled affectionately at Riddick. It was almost a friendly expression. Almost.

"I don't think…" Jack looked around, searching for… something. "I mean… You said this was a place for the dead."

Nobody's lips twitched. Laughing, or annoyed? "We all have to die sometime," she replied. "We're a lovely corpse someday." Her tone said this should've been comforting.

Jack shivered.

"You're not going to tell me I look good in my coffin? I'm hurt," Riddick said, putting one hand to his chest theatrically.

"Who said anything about a coffin? We're talking about corpses. You're better at making them, anyway. I can't see you dead."

Riddick looked at Jack from the corner of his eye. "What do you think, Jack? Do I look good cutting 'em down, one by one?" Riddick had a shiv in his hand.

Nobody tore off a particularly large chunk of cotton candy. The dye ran from the corners of her lips down her chin.

"Not if I'm the one," Jack said.

Riddick laughed. "Still afraid I'll feed you to the monsters, kid?"

Nobody rolled her eyes.

"I used to be," Jack answered.

"What changed your mind?" Riddick put his hand on the back of Nobody's neck. Her hair slithered aside obligingly.

"It's hard to be afraid of something that already happened."

Riddick laughed. "So I fed you to monsters, eh? And now you're in the belly of the beast."

A giggle slipped past Nobody's red lips. Riddick's body loomed large behind her. Little Red Riding Hood surrounded by the wolf. A girl in the belly of a beast.

"What now?" he whispered.

The sky turned dark suddenly, or maybe it had been dark and she hadn't seen it, but now it seemed as though he was only the avatar of the larger darkness. Nothing but eyes and a voice in the black.

_What now?_

Nobody was standing beside her. Her mouth and chin were red. She handed Jack the cotton candy.

"Have some," she said smiling.

Jack looked at the remains of the snack. "In the story, the huntsman kills the wolf. He saves her. Saves the day."

"In real life she claws her way out."

The dusk moved closer, tightening somehow. Closing in.

"I read a different version once where the wolf wasn't a wolf at all. He was a man who raped her. He swallowed her soul."

Nobody grinned. "Who saved her in that one?"

Riddick leaned in over Jack's shoulder, his body pressed against hers. He tore off a chunk of the cotton candy in his fingers. Put it to her lips. His breath was in her ear when he said, "Nobody did."

Nobody's laughter rose up and echoed, and then she was gone and Jack was alone, in the dark, with Riddick at her back. His arms slipped around her waist, strong, chorded with muscle. His fingers were sticky on her sides.

"What do you want from me?" Jack heard herself asking as from far away. She was floating, aimless, buoyed up in the circle of his arms.

"What do you want from _me_?" he asked her.

She was falling. There was no one holding her up…

Just as she had fallen into the dream, Jack fell back out, slamming back into her body. There was a crick in her neck she didn't think would ever come out.

Lavezoli stared at her from the monitor screen, his last known picture showing a skinny, awkward looking black man. He didn't look like he could do much besides drop his pants and hope whoever jumped him in prison was the considerate kind of ass rapist.

"What could he possibly want," Jack asked the picture, "with a pussy like you?" She turned her head and hissed, wincing. "Son of a bitch."

Jack closed her access files and turned off the monitor. It plunged the room into darkness. The sense of déjà vu welled up in her. Phantom arms around her waist…

"Lights."

The sense was gone as quickly as it had come. Jack ruthlessly massaged her stiff neck as she crossed to the bathroom. A hot shower would help, and then a good night's sleep.

_A good night's sleep on a bed, for once. He can get over it. It's my bed, too. Jackass._

She found herself humming as she stepped under the water. "I could feel myself… growing colder. I could feel myself… under your face. Under… your face."

* * *

"Remind me again why I agreed to this."

Jack looked at Riddick in the mirror. She tugged the red wig down to cover her hairline. "Because it's not exactly like you can just walk up to Lavezoli. He'd bolt."

"And I agreed to let you go instead because…?"

Jack rolled her eyes. "Because you don't trust Dave as far as he'd let you throw him. Look, are we going to go over all this again or are you going to hand me my contacts?"

Riddick reached out one long arm. Picked up the contact case. He looked at it; looked at her. Considered not handing it over, but he took the two steps to stand beside her.

"Look up," he rumbled, wetting his fingers. She arched an eyebrow at him and he smirked slightly. "Look up," he said again.

"Really? You're going to do your forced-physical-trust thing now?" Jack sighed but tipped her head back. "Don't put my eye out, yeah?"

"Relax." He put one hand on the bottom of her chin, his palm pressed against the hollow of her throat. He felt her tense up. Felt her swallow. Her larynx pressed against his skin. Fragile. Breakable. He had no problem looking down into her eyes. She still only came up to his collar bone.

He waited. One breath. Two.

Her pulse slowed marginally. Adrenaline dropped. She didn't loosen up, but she didn't get any more tense either.

_Good enough._ He brought the contact up, resting the heel of his palm on her cheek and put the contact on the white of her eye.

"Look down."

She moved her eyes down until she was looking into his finger and flinched away blinking furiously.

"God damn it. I hate contacts." She swiped the involuntary tears away angrily. Hissed. "Fuck."

"Ready?"

Jack sighed but tipped her head up obediently. This time there was no adrenaline, no elevated pulse. Pain was an excellent bonding agent. His finger pressed lightly to the white of her eye. It felt quivery and soft. He savored it for a moment longer than he needed to before saying, "Look down."

It was easier this time. She only blinked a little. Made a really ugly face as she tried to blink away the tears. Her pink tongue darted out to lick her lips.

Riddick felt his cock twitch at the sight. Her little body suddenly felt blazing hot less than a foot away from his own. The smell of her wig didn't quite obscure the sandalwood scent of her skin.

Jack looked up at him. He realized his hand was still wrapped around her throat. For a moment, he gave serious consideration to pushing her breakable little self against the mirror.

Considered it. He could see the expression on her face when she realized what he was doing; the panic… the fear… the impotent rage… And then the moment when she'd break. Not because she was being raped but because it would be him doing it.

She arched a brow at him – her favorite expression – and said, "I think we're done here."

Considered it.

He let his hand drop and stepped back. It felt a little like escaping something awful and a little like missing out.

_You're a sick fucker,_ he thought. Running off that train of thought, he asked, "How old are you now, Jack?"

She screwed up her forehead. "Where did that come from?"

Riddick shrugged, enjoying her discomfort. "How old are you?"

She thought for a second. "Is it past the midyear?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. Then I missed my birthday. I'm fourteen." She looked at him in the mirror. "How old are you?"

"Old," he said tersely. _Old enough to be your dad, but I'm still thinking about fucking you._

"Oh, come on. Tell me."

He didn't like the question. Didn't like what it made him consider. "Dave's waiting."

"Ha. No he's not. He's hoping we'll be grossly late and he'll get time alone with Lavezoli to set things up how he wants them." Jack adjusted her wig once more in the mirror and it struck him that in four days, her bruises had faded entirely.

_Huh._

She sighed and turned away to face him directly. "Let's go disappoint him, then."

Riddick gestured to the door. "After you."


	17. Chapter 17

"Sydney, you're right on time." Dave smiled warmly as she pranced up to him, looking very much unlike herself. His eyes focused immediately on her face.

"Of course. I wouldn't dream of missing this." Without hesitation she hugged him affectionately around the waist. If Riddick had nothing else to say about her performance she would give him no reason to fault her dedication.

He leaned down close to her ear. "Are you wearing make-up?"

Her brow creased. "No. Why?"

Dave smiled. "No reason."

_No reason, my ass. _Out loud, Jack asked, "Is Lenny here yet?"

"No, but he's on the approaching shuttle." Dave raised his arm to indicate the large digital read out displaying the status of the ship. A merchant vessel carrying several tons of supplies, it had a long period of deceleration before it could touch down. They still had at least ten minutes before it docked at all.

"Great."

Dave shrugged. "Let's look around. Lots of people out selling today."

It was true. Every trader with something to buy or sell was on the level hoping to turn a profit. It almost looked like an actual marketplace except for the lack of natural light. The hall was busy already. Crowded. The best possible cover they could hope for to make a man disappear.

And somewhere in the throng, Riddick was milling about with the best of them.

Dave bumped into her as if by accident. Knocked her off balance. Jack very carefully did not stab him in his kidney.

"Watch your expression," he said smoothly. "Doesn't pay to look scary. Come on, let's wander."

* * *

His wig wouldn't stay in place. That was his first problem. His second was the woman who kept trying to make pleasant conversation with him. She was giving off so many pheromones he felt downright anosmic trying to smell anything over her.

She was waiting for him to answer her question. He didn't. She blinked a little, and looked away suddenly very busy with her hand read-out of the incoming stock.

Riddick wandered off as though he'd lost interest in her. Checked Jack and Dave's position. They were by the passenger exit. Only a few people would use it. Lavezoli would be one of them any minute now.

_If Jack doesn't kill Dave first._ The thought brought a smile to his lips even as he worked to hide it. Dave was taking full advantage of the fact that Jack had to be affectionate in her role as little sister. _Probably has it in his head he's helping her get over her traumas or some dumb shit. Told him he never should've taken that psych class._

The digital display overhead changed from docking to unloading, and just like that the noise level in the bay went from moderate to loud.

The first passenger disembarked. A woman. The second, a man, but not Lavezoli. The third was close, a skinny black man with shifty eyes looking jumpy, but it wasn't him. Late as always, Lavezoli was the last one to exit the vessel, passenger number 15.

With his eyes locked on Lavezoli, he slid back into the shadow of the booth.

Jack and Dave moved in. It was beautiful, like two lions… circling. Jack's smile was wholly charming. Through all that dazzle, and Dave's bullshit, Lavezoli never thought to look around until he was isolated by the side tunnel.

When Jack grabbed both his hands and Dave covered his mouth with chloroform, it was already too late, and then they were gone.

A moment later, Riddick was gone too.

* * *

The second Riddick slipped in the door to Dave's quarters, Jack pulled herself up into the broken vent on the ceiling. He'd never fixed it after she smashed it in apparently.

_How sentimental of him_. Brought a little smile to his face. Everything was going exactly as planned. It was perfect. All that was left to do was wait for Lavezoli to wake up so he could get his answers.

"Figures she leaves right when the real work starts," Dave grumbles, glaring up into the vent after the girl.

"She did her part. Probably wants to change."

Dave shrugged and huffed as he pulled over the desk chair.

"What's got you all pissed off?" Riddick eyed him for a minute. "Oh no. Don't tell me. She made you carry him."

The other man's glance was acidic. Jack had manifestly done exactly that.

"Ran ahead to act as look out. Cheeky little bitch." Dave hefted Lavezoli around with an unnecessary amount of force.

"Don't be mad just because she got one over on you. You used to con everybody when we played dice in the tunnels."

"Ha. I forgot about that." Dave glanced shrewdly at Riddick. "I didn't realize you knew my dice were loaded."

"Why do you think I learned to cheat? Get his legs."

Dave looked slightly put off. "I didn't know you were cheating." He shook himself a bit, but grabbed the unconscious man's legs and helped heft him into the designated chair.

Lavezoli was lighter than Riddick remembered him being. _Gone soft. Gangly son of a bitch, though._ The length of his limbs made him awkward to manipulate. Definitely a two-man job. No wonder Dave was ticked he'd had to do it alone.

As if sensing he was being tied down, Lavezoli let out a soft moan.

"Think he's having bad dreams?" Dave asked wryly.

"Probably." Riddick felt a carnivorous grin steal across his face. Dave answered in kind. "Kid should be back soon," Riddick added. "We can put her to work, then."

"Mm. So where is she from anyway?" Dave didn't meet his eyes when the big man glanced at him.

"I don't know. I never asked." _Where you going with this Davey-boy?_

Dave pretended to be very focused on his knots. "Might want to find out."

"Why's that?"

Dave's brown eyes finally met his. "Because she can't be from one of the allied worlds. Think about it."

_That's the problem. I have been._ Dave was right. Jack wasn't an ordinary human being. She couldn't be. Contusions like hers didn't heal in four days. Not for regular humans. Regular humans didn't even survive what she'd been through. They died.

"Not really my business. Not really yours either." Riddick measured out a length of chord in his hands, watching Dave. Wrapped it around Lavezoli's wrists. "Especially considering neither of _us_ is from an allied world. The Company might not have cared, but there's lots of people who do."

"That's exactly my point, Riddick."

_Find out before anyone else does._ Out loud, he said, "He'll be coming around soon. How sound-proof are your walls?"

"Entirely."

"Don't bother with a gag."


	18. Chapter 18

The first thing Lavezoli did when he woke up was stare wide-eyed at Riddick for approximately six seconds. The second thing he did was vomit. Off to one side, Jack noticed.

_He's puked while tied up before. Interesting. _

"Have a nice nap?" Dave asked. He didn't bother to sit up, just lifted his head so he could see Lavezoli's face from his position on the bed.

"Fuck you, Rogers." Lavezoli spit angrily in Dave's direction. The black man had a weird accent she couldn't quite place. Not like anything else she'd ever heard.

_He almost sounds like Paris, but… more drawling. Weird._

"It's Cairn now, actually. I thought it was a nice touch myself but I have been told by some people," Dave glanced at Riddick, "that it's overkill. Matter of opinion, I guess."

"You sold me out." There was a bitter note in Lavezoli's voice.

_He trusted you. _Jack couldn't help but look at Dave. _I don't know why, but he did. And you sold him out to us -- to Riddick. _

"Yeah. Sorry about that, Jeff." Dave gave a sad little smile. Jack almost believed it was real. "But hey, listen, there's no reason this has to go badly. All our dear friend Richard wants is information. If you provide that information, then our business here is concluded and you can go on about your business like none of this ugliness ever happened."

Riddick tapped his shiv rhythmically on his thigh.

"Ugliness?" Lavezoli repeated. "Is that what the kids are calling it now?"

"Ugliness," Dave confirmed. "You see, the other side of the coin is that if you don't give Richard his information – convincingly, I might add. He can be a hard man to convince – then this business will be terribly ugly."

Lavezoli's thin frame looked like it was heaving under the speed of his breath. His head wavered.

Dizziness and shallow breathing. _Signs of a heightened reaction to chloroform. _"He might need oxygen," Jack said. She walked over to Lavezoli. Lifted his chin. Checked his pupils. "His pulse is erratic."

"Who the hell are you? Really?" he asked.

She looked into his eyes. He looked like he probably felt: haggard. "That's not really important…" She had a weird moment, then, looking down at this man, bound to a chair, remembering how it felt to be in his place. She was the one tied up and he was looking down at her. She felt the rope on her wrists… the numbness in her feet from too tight bindings… The resignation…

And then he blinked, and she was free standing over him. He was the one in bondage. Jack stepped back from him.

"At least," she amended, "that's not important from where you're sitting."

"She's a smart kid," Riddick rumbled. "You should listen to her. And if you think you're feeling shitty now, you really don't want to make me think you're not offering full cooperation."

"Tell me what you want to know." Lavezoli's head was limp on the end of his neck. From defeat or from physical weakness?

Dave picked at his fingernails disinterestedly. "After our esteemed colleague's unfortunate and unlawful incarceration, a certain Captain responsible for said incarceration came to you for your assistance. Assistance, I might add, that would be very difficult to get from anyone else so don't bother denying you helped him in the first place."

Lavezoli rolled his eyes. "Have I bothered denying anything you've said? You want me to tell you what I did for Delroy, is that it?"

Riddick smiled. "Yup. That's all you have to do."

"Could've just asked," Lavezoli spat. "I don't fucking care what you do to him. I'll tell you whatever you like."

"I know you will. That's what I'm afraid you'll do actually, because I don't want you to tell me whatever I want to hear. I want you to tell me the truth. Two different things." Riddick rubbed his thumb along the edge of his shiv.

"Fine, I'll tell you the truth. I've got no reason to lie." His eyes were panicked now.

Jack tried to keep her breathing steady.

"You've got the best reason to lie. A lie will get you out of that chair and still keep you safe from Delroy."

"I'm not afraid of him! I'm…" He looked back and forth between Riddick and Dave. "Does it even matter what I say?"

"Yes," Jack said, stepping in front of Riddick. "It does." She looked into those black goggles. He couldn't arch his eyebrow with them on, but she got the impression he was amused by her intrusion.

_Which means he'll probably let me finish. Probably._

She turned to Lavezoli. His eyes were wide. He reeked of fear. She crouched down in front of him. "You said you aren't afraid of Delroy. Why not?"

"He deserves anything and everything you want to give him."

She did what Riddick couldn't. She arched a brow. "Why's that?"

"If it weren't for him, my family would still be alive."

"I'm listening," Riddick rumbled, crossing his arms. The shiv peeked out almost demurely under his elbow.

"When he called to say he had work for me, I said no. My son… he had just been born. He was just a baby…" Lavezoli trailed off. He might've been fighting tears.

Impatiently, Dave pulled himself up and leaned back against the wall so he was facing them. "You said no, but…?"

"But I couldn't say no. I helped put you in slam. I forged your papers. He could turn me in, and who do you think a judge would really believe? A hacker's word against a Company Captain? It'd be a farce." Lavezoli shook his head. "No, I couldn't refuse, but my wife was still weak, and my son… he was sickly. He needed more care than she could provide alone. I took them to stay with my mother."

"How exactly did that get them killed? You were cooperating. Presumably you did good work for Delroy which is why the fucker's vanished. Staying with your mother doesn't sound very hazardous." Riddick sat forward again. Rested his elbows on his knees. Played with the knife.

Lavezoli's whole body began to shake. "My mother lived on Coalsack III."

"Oh, Jesus…" Jack rocked back on her heels. On the bed Dave sat up. Only Riddick looked unaffected.

"If it hadn't been for him…" Lavezoli was losing his fight not to cry. "They would still be alive, but I left them there for the Silence."

Riddick looked at all three of them. "What the hell is the silence?" he asked.


	19. Chapter 19

"Remember the Carthodox?" Jack waited for Riddick to nod before going on, "The Silence took them out. Obliterated their whole religious order."

"So it's an army?"

"That's the best guess." Jack looked back at Lavezoli with a whole new interest. "But not the best part."

"I'll bite," Riddick replied. "What's the best part?"

"It's supposed to be an army of ghosts."

"The Carthodox called them the Hood of the Devil," Dave added. "Did you see the planet for yourself?" he asked Lavezoli.

"Yes," Lavezoli whispered. "I saw it. I saw the towers… The whole planet was nothing but ash. Everything was gone, even the mountains. It was a wasteland."

Riddick cocked his head to one side. "So this army. It blows up whole planets, destroys whole races and then just… what? Disappears? Army that big has to go somewhere."

"Doesn't mean we know where," Dave answered.

"Mm. So Delroy gets you to leave your happy home. Where did you go?"

Lavezoli looked glad for the distraction. Or at least, he looked less likely to cry now that he was back on a safer topic. "He didn't want the Company to know what he was doing. He took leave to Sigma 7's fourth moon."

"Clever of him."

Jack glanced at Riddick. He wasn't being sarcastic. She made a mental note to look up the Sigma system when she got the chance.

Lavezoli nodded. "He isn't stupid. I met him there to finish his fake papers. Got himself a new name to use when he left. And another to use after they stopped watching him."

Like a shadow lengthening, Riddick seemed to unfurl. He leaned forward. If Jack didn't know any better she might've said he got bigger. Certainly he seemed to be taking up too much space, looming over her as he came closer to Lavezoli. Jack's hand slipped down to rest on the shiv hidden in her boot.

"I want those names," Riddick whispered.

"I'll do you one better. I'll track him down."

Riddick shrank. Or diminished. He was less threatening than a moment ago. "Why would you do that?"

Jack looked up at Riddick's goggles. "Because we'll do what our friend here can't." She looked into Lavezoli's brown eyes. "We'll kill him," she promised.

"Friend?" Riddick asked.

"Yes, friend." Jack walked around and crouched behind Lavezoli's chair. Drew her shiv. Placed it against the ropes. "My friend. And my friends are your friends."

"Not always, kid."

She felt her heart hammering in her chest again. "Do you see yourself getting any better offers?"

A moment passed. Two. Riddick sat back. The shiv was gone from his hand. His face was blank.

Jack broke the silence with the sound of her shiv passing through the bonds. She didn't look at Riddick as she walked around Lavezoli and cut his feet loose. Tried not to feel tense knowing Riddick was at her back. She even managed not to jump when he put his hands on her shoulders.

Riddick leaned down until his mouth was at her ear. "Just don't forget your real friends, Jack."

His breath was warm on her neck, just stirring the hair she was growing back. She felt an electric chill run through her body turning every muscle into fluff. Her ears were full of buzzing. She thought he might have breathed in her scent…

Riddick stepped away so suddenly she felt dizzy when he let go. She turned in time to see him slip out of the cabin and into the hall.

Dave stood up and followed the convict almost casually. Apparently he was unconcerned with leaving she and Lavezoli alone in his quarters.

_How trusting of him. What the hell is wrong with them?_ Jack stared at the door for a few seconds, sighed, and turned back to the man she'd just saved.

Lavezoli looked awkward as hell. His mouth opened and closed several times like he couldn't decide what to say.

Jack rolled her eyes. "You need fluids. Do you want water with electrolytes or am I going to have to run an I.V.?"

He tried to stand. Made it about half way up before collapsing back into his chair.

The girl sighed again. "Right then. Wait here. Get to the bed if you can. I'll be back."

* * *

He had to get out – had to get away, far away. As far as possible. He clenched his jaw shut as he strode down the hall till his teeth hurt. It distracted him a little from the throbbing ache in his cock. He could still smell the heady cocktail of her scent: sandalwood, sweat, fear, adrenaline…

Riddick needed out. He needed _an_ out, and if he didn't get to fuck something – now – just about anything would do – he was going to go back and rape that damned kid. He could taste her, the smell was so vivid – could still feel her bones under his hands… so fragile… so easy to break…

When someone touched him on the shoulder his reaction was all instinct. He pinned Dave against the nearest wall by his throat with a shiv pressed to his femoral artery.

"What?" Riddick rumbled.

Dave's face was carefully blank. Entirely noncommittal. "I thought you might need directions."

"And how do you know where I'm going?"

"You're going to go buy a hooker so you can stop lusting after your little gender-bending sidekick," Dave said, all in that same monotone with the same blank expression.

It was fucking infuriating. Riddick leaned in putting more weight on the shiv. "Mind your own fucking business."

With an almost clinical detachment Dave broke Riddick's grip on his neck and slid down the wall away from the pressure of the knife. "Handle yours first. You want the third level, fourth layer. Pay for it before she does."

Riddick let him leave. He didn't stab him in the gut and pull out his intestines. He didn't cut out Dave's larynx to use as a keychain. He let him leave, because it wasn't a bad idea. He could just find someone else, get the itch out of his system. Someone who looked like Jack – no, not Jack. Fry maybe, but not Jack. Someone bony, and frail like Carolyn. Someone he could break if he wanted to.

_Not a bad idea at all._


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: To clarify a question I was asked in a previous review and forgot to answer (I'm sorry, I'm easily distracted), when I refer to the poles of the satellite our fair heroes are on I'm referring to the ends of the center column that runs through the ship like an axis does through a planet. The poles of the satellite are just like the North and South poles of Earth. It just means the end of the rotational axis. To clarify a bit further, the way I've been envisioning Centurion, it resembles a roll of paper towels with a rotating inner column and layers of different levels radiating out to maintain artificial gravity. At each end of the rotating column there is a star-gazing room. Hope that helps make the reading a bit more fluid to follow.

Jack starred at the mat in front of her. She concentrated. Tried to feel exactly where all her limbs were and where she wanted them to go. She relaxed from head to toe, and sprung forward. Pushed off hard with her legs, tucked her upper body, swung her legs up and over…

…and came down hard squarely on her shoulders jarring her from neck to pelvis. As insult to injury, she found herself looking at Dave's smiling face in the door to the gym.

"Almost had it that time," he said cheerfully.

"That time? Been spying on me, Dave?"

"I have a friend who does surveillance for one of the gangs. Sent me a recording of your practice session last night."

Jack frowned. "They record people going to the gym?"

"They record anybody moving around past four standard hours to 'morning.' Although he sent it to me because he thought it was hilarious." Dave walked over and offered her a hand up. "Thought I'd come by and see how you were doing."

She looked at his hand for a second and then took it. Let him pull her up. "And?"

"You need to push off harder. Also if you can help it don't tuck your body. Keep your posture straight, including your legs. It's more difficult but if you can get it right you can turn it into a kick."

She nodded. Stretched. Winced. Her right shoulder hurt when she tensed the muscle. She rubbed it a little, rotated the joint.

"Couldn't sleep last night?"

Jack shrugged. "I didn't really want to." Dave looked at her quizzically. "I have weird dreams sometimes. Just wasn't in the mood for another one. How's Lavezoli?"

"Glued to the computer interface I set up for him. I don't think he slept either."

"How about you? Get any rest?"

"Some. I know Lavezoli's pretty much harmless but old habits die hard." Dave shrugged a little uncomfortably.

Jack looked away. She shifted her weight. _Just do it._ "I'm sorry about the other day. For almost breaking your arm and, you know, for what I said." She glanced at Dave out of the corner of her eye. He was starring right back at her. "I didn't… well, I did mean to do it, but you didn't deserve it." _Not for that._

A long silence stretched out. When she glanced at Dave again he was still watching her, his expression unreadable.

"A response is customary after an apology, you know," she mumbled, shifting her position slightly.

He blinked. "Mm? Oh, you don't have to apologize. I fucked that up. Shouldn't have pushed you."

She held his eyes. "Then just say whatever it is you need to say."

His eyes flicked involuntarily to the back corner of the room.

_Where the camera is?_ She didn't look back at it.

"Let's take a walk," he suggested.

"Okay."

The walk ended up taking them into the center column and all the way to the far pole of the satellite. Just when she thought he was taking her to the star-gazing room he slipped into an invisible tunnel. Literally if she hadn't watched him move through what appeared to be a wall she would never have found it except by falling through unintentionally and even that was unlikely. The entrance was two feet wide and set to look like a natural recession in the paneling. A hologram, and a damned good one at that, screened the entrance to Dave's personal warren.

_Must be where he runs his gang._ As they walked she caught sight of various rooms full of stolen goods, computer systems, parts for ships. _Could've just borrowed a welding torch from Dave if I'd thought to ask._ That thought didn't sit well. She walked faster.

_How far in does this damn place go?_ It took five minutes and seven turns (three right, four left) to get to their apparent destination. It wasn't a small room by any means, but most of its area was taken up by monitors and immersion browsers. Except for on Chillingsworth's ship, Jack had never seen one up close. They were ridiculously expensive, to purchase and to maintain. She resisted the urge to examine it.

"I can see why you left Lavezoli in your room. I don't think he'd ever log out.," she said dryly.

"Among other reasons. Trust, for one."

"I'm touched."

Dave ignored her sarcasm. "You should be. I haven't even told Riddick this place exists." That got her attention. "I don't think it would be very productive. Riddick isn't the kind of man who puts value in others or their contributions. Or at least he never was, until you."

_Until he used me to take you out. Until he trusted me, at least a little, to do his dirty work._ Jack felt like her ears were somehow disconnecting from her body. Sounds became curiously distant. Even her own voice, as it said, "Say what you need to say, Dave."

"Promise you won't try to maim me this time?"

She half-smiled. "Promise."

His face sobered. "Because I think you'll like it even less than what I said last time."

"I promise. Say what you need to say."

Despite her promise, Dave still kept his distance. "I think… that you find yourself in a very unusual and very precarious situation. If you were an ordinary kid, I would never dream of having this conversation with you, but you're not. You're the one and only known companion of a true serial killer, and you're the only person in this universe he feels anything for."

Jack was oddly grateful for feeling so distant from the real world or she thought she might've been a little overwhelmed.

Dave watched her intently - w_aiting for me to come at him?_ – but after a few seconds he went on. "If you were a boy, I don't think there'd be any danger in it, however you are manifestly a girl and Riddick is finding himself prodded by recent events into considering graphically what that entails.

"Now, I don't know this for sure, but it's a fair bet that Riddick has raped his share of women. He's a sadist, Jack. You know that. _I_ know that. You saw how willing he was to torture Lavezoli. No, that's not even a fair description. He wanted to do it."

_I stopped him, though. Or he let me. Because… because he isn't sure how he feels about hurting me yet._ She watched Dave. Watched him watching her as she realized what he was really getting at. "You think it's only a matter of time before he wants to hurt me too."

"I think part of him wants to hurt you now."

She thought of him with his hand on her throat in the bathroom; of him looming over her like… like a shadow. Like Nobody's shadow. She thought of red cotton candy, the dying running down her chin like blood.

Maybe Dave saw some of that in her eyes because he looked away when he added, "He's just… also attached to keeping you around."

"He's not… Not all of him is bad."

"A lot of him is bad these days, Jack."

Her heartbeat felt heavy in her chest. "You wish I'd leave him. Run away and not look back."

"I wish you'd never met him, honestly, because I don't think he has the emotional maturity to let you leave."

Jack laughed. She couldn't help it. "Emotional maturity? What are you, his guidance counselor?"

"I was an interrogator for the Tabula Company in the Sigma System for twelve years. It was my job to pick people apart without needing knives or hot irons. The Company decided it was more efficient that way so they took anyone in spec ops with a taste for puzzles and programmed psychology into us for seven months. My specialty was in reading body language and predicting behavior. I was very, very good. Maybe even the best, but I never let that show in my work so that when I was ready to leave they'd let me.

"I can even quantify my success. 98.3% of the time my insight led to a prisoner breaking under the strain of whatever method we pursued. On the whole, people are remarkably predictable if you know what to look for." Dave smiled. He showed his teeth.

Jack thought of St. Jude. "You really think I'm a lost cause?"

"I wouldn't be wasting my time if I did."

"Why are you trying to help me?"

"Because I'm not all bad either."

She looked at her hands. A killer's hands. Capable hands. Hands that could hold an oar, or an axe. "He saved my life once. He spared me." She paused. "I saved his once, too. My real first kill, on a merc ship. The first time I ever fired a gun, and I did it to save him. I was a killer before you met me. He made me a better one." She turned her hands over to look at the palms, covered in muscle from learning to use a shiv. "I… won't walk out on my best friend."

He nodded very seriously. "Then you can't ever let yourself lose sight of who and what he is."

"He really is my friend, you know. He's just… more than that, too. Less than that maybe." She shook her head. "You were right. I did like that even less."

"And you didn't even try to maim me." Dave smiled. A real smile. A smile with teeth. Jack smiled too.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: This chapter has been an ordeal to get through for several reasons, not the least of which is that I lost my nearly complete draft when my laptop died. This has been entirely rewritten, about as close to the original as I think I can get it. Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing and subscribing to alerts. It really helped remind me that people wanted to see more.

* * *

He left the hooker lying exhausted on the floor of her room. Left her the creds she'd earned on the side table. Thought about it for a second, and left her a tip. Smiled back at her over his shoulder. Her blue eyes never met his, just stared blankly at the wall. Her short blonde hair stood out around her face like a halo. It had been long when he'd come in, but he'd fixed that. Tousled with sweat, she was almost a dead ringer for Fry. She even smelled a little like her. It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough to really satisfy. He could almost feel the grit of sand on his skin.

He slipped out as silently as he'd slipped in, but he wasn't ready to go back to his room. He made his way to the docking bay that housed the Ziggurat, soon to be the Isum. Soon as he and Jack got underway he'd have to change the registration and port of origin. No sense in announcing their intentions to Delroy or whatever the fuck his name was now.

_Might have to give Lavezoli some extra motivation to get me what I need._

Picturing that scenario kept him occupied all the way to the ship's bridge. He ran a status check on the ship. It was good. Hull integrity: 100%. Life Support System: Functioning within accepted parameters. Engine: Fully Functional. They were ready. Now if only they had the damn coordinates.

_Jack's gonna be pissed if I fuck him up._ Riddick leaned back in his chair, rubbed his stubble. He needed a shave like nobody's business. First things first, then. The big man stood and lumbered over to the decontamination chamber. Stepped inside.

A robotic voice asked, "Decontaminate occupant?"

"Affirmative." The whoosh of air jets came on and he felt the dust settle over him, penetrating his clothes. The smell of sex vanished replaced by the faintly acrid, almost sulfuric smell of the powder which was then promptly blown away. It could be reused almost infinitely. Riddick privately disliked the sterile smell but even he preferred the bath substitute to the smell of unwashed bodies. He didn't want to wait to get back, either. Wasn't sure why. "Hair removal implements," he ordered.

"Acknowledged." A small panel opened to his right revealing a small rub-away glove and a after-lotion dispenser.

Riddick frowned. "Razor and shave gel," he amended.

"Unavailable."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Negative."

"Shut up, you piece of shit."

"Acknowledged."

He nearly went to go dig out the voice register system but restrained himself forcibly. He pulled out the glove and began to rub small circles on his head feeling the small hair follicles break away under the sand-paper feel of the mitt. Did it work? Sure. Did he have to like it? Hell no. _Got to pick up some damn shave gel before we leave. I'm not doing this for the next however long. Wonder how far Delroy had to run before he felt safe._ He hoped it hadn't been far enough to require cryo, but knowing his luck that's exactly what it would demand. It would give him a chance to try out the newer cryo units equipped to the ship. Maybe they'd work a little better than the last ones he'd had occasion to use. That would be nice.

He wasn't counting on it.

Riddick ran a hand over his smooth scalp feeling cheated. It was never the same using a glove as using a real blade to take off the hair. He left the chamber without availing himself of the after-lotion. All told his time in the chamber only took about ten standard minutes, give or take, so he was mildly surprised to see the message light was flashing.

"Play message."

Jack's warbling voice came on the speakers. "Riddick, when you get this come to Dave's quarters." There was a long pause. "Lavezoli found him."

* * *

Jack stared hard at the computer screen again, looking for... something. Something in the face before her that showed the depths of treachery it was hiding. She was looking at the face of the man who was responsible for sending Riddick to slam. It was a good face, strong, dark features. The eyes were chocolate brown, the skin olive, hair dark brown. He had two dimples in each cheek like he spent most of his time smiling. He looked like the guy you'd see stopping to hold open the door for you in an antiquated chivalrous gesture. He looked... nice.

It was hard to reconcile. And there was something... almost familiar...

Everything happened very suddenly, then. She saw it like clicks in a roll of pictures. The door slid open. Riddick flew in straight at Lavezoli. Dave stepped in front of him, deflecting Riddick into the wall. Riddick went with the motion, brought his foot up to push off, launched himself at Dave like a man possessed. Somehow there was a knife in Riddick's hand. Jack found herself between them, her hand on Riddick's chest, her arm across Dave's pushing him back, down, out of harm's way. The only sound was harsh breathing, the feel of two heaving chests under her hands... Riddick's face was torn. Rage and restraint warred across it. She didn't dare look at Dave to see his expression, but she imagined it was utterly focused. The antithesis of Riddick's. She was in the middle. Lavezoli made a study of motionlessness.

She felt calm. Remarkably clear, even, as if everything was laid out in a straight line. She could see where it would go. For a moment it was almost as if she could see it all the way to its end... She blinked. She was in Dave's quarters. She said, "Sit down." Dave stepped back. Riddick's arm twitched. She pressed lightly on his chest until he looked down at her. She said again, "Sit down."

He shifted his grip on the knife, licked his lips, looked back at Dave, and turned away. Riddick did not sit down. "Where. Is. He?"

"He's on his way to the Carfax system as a guest of the Suel in cryo. He's under the name Dean Farlow. That's not the I.D. I gave him, but he is using the ident code." Lavezoli swallowed heavily. He still had not moved from his corner.

"Why change the name?" Riddick growled, pacing along the wall by the door.

"It's easy to alter an existing record. Nearly impossible to create one. It's why people steal identities instead of making them up."

Riddick didn't look at Jack when he said, "Get your shit. We're leaving."

"In an hour." That did make him look at her. Jack nodded, offered him a small smile. "I know. I'll see you on the Ziggurat." The big man grunted, and then he left as quickly as he'd come.

Lavezoli sagged down to the floor, his head rolling on his neck. "Oh Jesus..."

Dave let out a long breath. "Well said."

"I thought he was gonna kill me." Lavezoli rubbed his face vigorously.

Jack laughed. "He was."

A grin flashed across Dave's face. "Your invocation was more timely than you imagined, Jeffrey."

It took Jack a minute to remember that Jeffrey was Lavezoli's first name. Strange to think she'd fought for a man whose first name she barely remembered. _Against Riddick, no less. _

"You should go pack," Dave said to her. "Wouldn't be wise to keep him waiting."

Jack looked him up and down for a minute. "Yeah, you're probably right." Jack looked away. "See you, Dave."

He smiled. "I hope so, Jack."


	22. Chapter 22

Jack watched the satellite as it seemed to fall away from the underside of the ship. Centurion wasn't really moving, of course, but it looked that way from her vantage point. It got smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until it was just a lonely speck floating in nothing. Very lonely.

They were off. Leaving. Gone already. On a four month intercept course for the Suel vessel carrying Dean Farlow a.k.a. Tyler Delroy, a terrible human being and the person responsible for her best friend's incarceration. It would take four and a half days for the ship to reach open space where they could safely enter cryo without worrying about cross traffic. She felt a lot like Centurion looked, getting smaller and smaller in the distance until she was a tiny dot, spiraling through the cosmos. The only difference was Centurion had a place.

Jack turned away when there was nothing left to see but stars.

Two days into the outset and the ship was already too small. It hadn't seemed that way on the first leg of their star hop, but now it was definitively tiny. She couldn't turn around with seeing or running into Riddick, sometimes literally. It was only 50% bigger than the skiff that had been their salvation from the Hunter Gratzner crash. The constant contact made her edgy in a way it never had before. Jack spent far more time in the decontamination chamber than was necessary or even advisable. The smell of sulfur seemed ingrained into her clothes but she craved the solitude, even if it was only for a few moments. The rest of her time was divided between sharpening her shivs and researching the Suel.

They were a religious order from way back. Established almost three hundred years ago, they believed that discarding monetary value and living communally would lead to a group mindset that could eventually transcend theory of mind and bridge the gap to higher consciousness. Their missionaries offered free transport to any passengers going the same way within their weight limits. No payments, and no passenger lists. Explained why Delroy was on one. What surprised her was how wide spread the order had become, spanning sixty galaxies with planetary colonies in at least twenty. The number was still rising. Made a nice place to hang out. A entire people who kept no record of coming, going, or population status. There were even reports of niche communities accessible only to the indoctrinated that took vows of silence to enhance the hive mind with apparent success. Dozens of cultural anthropologists were dying to get inside one but so far hadn't been able to manage it. Several had disappeared in the attempt, though, making the Suel an organization of interest to the Allied Congress.

_It's always the preachy ones that end up being insidious._

Riddick stood behind her reading the latest article she'd found. Jack tried not to feel annoyed. The smell of him slipped through the sulfuric cloud that hung off her: sweat, canvas, leather, the vague but sharp addition of rubber from his goggles, and something almost musty that was just him. She didn't mind his scent exactly, but she didn't like the reminder of his presence. His unrelenting, unremitting presence.

_It's not his fault. You wanted to come. Stop being such a bitch._ She took a deep breath and pushed the feelings of resentment firmly down, determined that for a little while at least she could be civil. She said, "It's a pretty interesting order." He didn't say anything but she felt like he was paying attention so she went on. "They want to turn mankind into one giant mind made up of us all. Total assimilation but they use absolutely no force in recruiting and the missionaries exist only to shepherd the interested to colony worlds. It's pretty crazy how far they've come through anti-advertising."

"How's that?"

"Well, they recruit by not recruiting. It's like walking around in a purple suit in a town full of white ones. People start talking and asking about the suit. You don't have to go around saying, 'Hey, assholes, wear my suits.' People come to you instead, only the Suel are doing it on a galactic level and it's working."

"Reminds me of the Saurotherans."

Jack didn't recognize the name. "The Saurotherans?"

"Yeah. They had weird ideas about joint consciousness, too. Some kind of collective supermind but they didn't want assimilation, just universal access or some such crap. Met one a long time ago."

"What was he like?"

"Spacey motherfucker. Didn't make it through basic, but he was a tough bastard. They kicked him out for his psych eval." She felt Riddick shrug. "Most of them died during the purges. He probably did, too."

Jack couldn't stop the shudder that ran through her. Riddick noticed. How could he not? But Jack didn't say anything, so neither did he. He brought his hand up to rest on her shoulder, dangerously close to her throat. Ran his thumb up and down the back of her neck. It made her feel light-headed.

"Let me know if you find anything interesting," he said finally, and moved away. She turned to look at him but all he did was pick up a whetstone and set to work on his shiv. "Keep an eye out for traffic," he added.

"Yeah," Jack answered, swallowing. "I will."

There was no traffic. After pretending to scroll through four more articles Jack stood up and went to the decontamination chamber.

* * *

Most of the time when an itch gets scratched, it goes away, but sometimes it just shifts a little and gets worse. That's how it was with Jack. She was everywhere, in everything, everywhere he turned. The smell of her sinking into him so deep he couldn't wait for her to catch that reek of sulfur so her scent would be broken up by something - anything so long as it wasn't her. The relief never lasted long, though. He started to feel paranoid she knew what kind of smut was running through his mind and that was why she kept trying to hide from him. She had enough hair to let it fall into her eyes now. Her newest trick for evading him. She was clever about it. Hid behind light brown hair so he couldn't see into her. Finally he got it why she liked him with his goggles off.

The kid was sleeping, curled up in a defensive little ball under the bunk. Her breath was silent, didn't even echo off the floor. Eyes were exposed, those soft lids her only protection from him. A loud noise would be enough to wake her. He could just see the panicked look in that clear, sweet green. But the moment passed and he was silent, watching her. Except for the shiv he knew was in her hand, she looked so fucking innocent it made him want to kill something.

She twitched reflexively. Dreaming? It pulled the edge of her shirt up far enough for him to see the hollow between her hipbones. His eyes locked on the shadow across her belly, leading down to that tiny cunt. He was on his knees and reaching for her before he had time to feel his cock throbbing -

But he didn't touch her. Something stopped him. He stopped himself, maybe? Riddick wasn't sure, couldn't tell, but he did stop and he couldn't make himself start again. The kid was so tired she didn't even stir when he jacked off two feet away feeling dirty. Feeling relieved. She took her shallow little breaths teasing him with the flutter of her ribcage under her shirt. When he came she let out this little sigh, like she knew. Like she was happy about it.

He couldn't get into the decon chamber fast enough. The sulfur only made him think of her and he had to jack off again before he could trust himself to leave.

After that he tried to be good. He stopped touching her, did his best not to get drunk on her scent but perversely she sensed something was off. She was always watching him from under her hair, always keyed in to his movements. Her eyes on him made his prick stand at attention all the time. He started making up shit that needed doing just to get her away from him. She spent a blessed four hours below deck looking for a flaw in the engine he told her was there only to be shocked when she actually found one. Kid had a real head for mechanics. Could have been an engineer if she stayed in school.

Riddick started counting down the time until he could go into cryo.

It still took too fucking long, but eventually they cleared occupied space. He made her set up his cryo unit first just so he wouldn't have the chance to stay awake while she slept. As a wise man had once said, he could resist anything but temptation. He didn't even want to test himself. He wanted to go to sleep, for a long, long time. He didn't even feel as the unit went to work.


	23. Chapter 23

Jack slid back in the seat, which was slightly uncomfortable since it was made for someone Riddick's size, and began to set up her own cryo unit. She glanced at the big man, definitely asleep for once. The new cryo unit had him under more securely than anything else she'd seen. It would be nice to just rest for a while, but Jack knew she wouldn't be resting. Not with her dreams.

Just fucking do it. With hands that resolutely did not hesitate, she punched in her estimated wake up time with parameters for emergencies. She sat back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling.

Something pinged.

"Message received," the ship said as if it was an ordinary occurrence. As if their ship wasn't a black ship with hidden ident tags. As if this didn't mean very, very bad news.

Shit.

"Play message?"

Jack considered. "Identify sender."

"Sender unlisted."

Shit. Shit. Shit. Jack ran a hand through her hair. She looked at Riddick. "Play message."

* * *

Riddick was in a house he thought he should remember. It was nice, upscale, the kind of place he might rob if he needed money fast. It was almost empty. He wasn't sure who was home, exactly, but he knew there was someone. He could smell something cooking in the kitchen. Meat and gravy. Potatoes. He was ravenously hungry.

There was a black woman cooking with her back to him. Thought about shanking the bitch and jacking the food, but he got the feeling she knew he was there already. He sat down at the island on one of the bar stools. "What's cooking?"

"A roast," she said without turning to look at him. Her voice was like warm caramel. "It's been stewing for a long time. Nice and tender now. It's just about done." She turned around. She had a sash around her body with a lump in it that might've been a baby. Her face was hard to make out, but she had white teeth and bright eyes. "I wasn't sure you'd make it in time for dinner."

"Mm." Riddick looked around the room. It was kind of sparse. Something about that made him nervous, but he couldn't say what.

"Looking for your friend?" The lady smiled, wiping her hands off on a towel. "She won't be joining us today, I'm afraid."

"Why not?"

"She has another engagement she can't miss. Not to worry, though. I'd prefer to talk to you alone." She floated out the door to the garden. Riddick followed her. It just seemed like the thing to do. "You've been having some problems with your friend recently, I noticed."

The flowers were all red and purple. They swayed without a wind. There was a tree growing in the far corner that he didn't like. The ground felt... wet. Like mud.

The lady was digging in it, shaping the mud around into a structure. Her dress was dirty. "I can help with that, you know."

"Who says I want your help?"

She laughed. "No one. I thought you might need it, though. I don't think you really want to rape a child."

Riddick fingered a shiv. He looked into a purple sunflower. "You know an awful lot about me, lady."

"Mother's always know their children."

He spun around to face her but she was gone, and the garden was gone. He was on a playground. Fry was sitting on the swing set eating a popsicle. She waved at him to come over.

"Hi, Riddick." Her voice was just like he remembered. Her lips and tongue were blue from the dye in her snack. She gave him a little half-smile as bit off a chunk. "Long time, no see."

"You're looking pretty good for a dead girl."

"Good enough to eat," she said smirking. For a second she's not Fry at all but that hooker from the station, but he blinked and it was gone. "You hungry?" She didn't wait for an answer but started pumping her legs, swinging higher and higher.

Riddick sat down on the other swing and watched the kids playing on the climbers. Johns leaned against the metal pole next to him watching Carolyn.

"She doesn't listen," Johns said off-hand to Riddick. "I tell her not to go that high but she just doesn't listen."

"Why should she? She's dead."

Johns rolled his eyes. "There's dead and there's dead and there's dead. Big difference."

"It's all dead to me."

That self-satisfied smirk Riddick hated came up on Johns's face. "We'll see. I think your mom's calling you."

She's dead, too. Riddick didn't say it, just stood up and walked over to the dark woman leaving Johns and Fry on the swings.

The lady smiled at him, showed her white teeth. "Dinner's ready. Are you done playing with your friends?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I'm done playing."

The woman smiled in a way that was entirely carnivorous. "Good. Let's eat."

Riddick was sitting at the table, a huge plate in front of him covered in meat. His stomach was cramped with hunger. He dug in. It was the best meal he'd ever had.

"Now, about your friend. She's got a lot to do and an unfortunately short period of time in which to do it. Things are happening all too quickly, but I like to see you happy. I can give you a chance to get her back if you want it."

"And what if I don't want it?"

The woman shrugged. "Then she'll just be dead. How's the meat?"

Riddick put his fork down. "Who the hell are you? You're not my mother."

The woman laughed. "How would you even know?" She smiled. "All right, I'm not your literal mother, but that's not really the point. The point is I'm offering you a way out. Save the girl. Save the day." She looked him over. "Tell you what, you think about it, and the next time I see you, you can give me your answer."

"Lady-" but he didn't get to finish the thought, or the sentence. He felt a needle withdrawal from his arm. Heard something pinging him awake.

He opened his eyes on an empty ship, and a message waiting.

Jack was gone.

* * *

Her hologram was high end. Pretty close to her actual face. She looked tired. "All right," she said. "Third time's the charm. Hi, Riddick. By the time you see this you'll know I'm gone. Sorry about that. Really, I am, but I had to go.

"Right after you went under the ship got a message from Imam. They were looking for you. Him and somebody else he wouldn't name. Wanted you for something big, but I got the feeling it wasn't something you wanted to be wrapped in, and I'm not sure it's on the up and up, so I'm going instead.

"Whatever it is, they're in trouble. Serious, real, call-your-local-pontifex kind of trouble, and I can't just... Well... I'm going to see what's up.

"Nobody knows about this ship still. The message was broadcast to the enter sector. It's on a loop relay from a black ops satellite. You might get a second copy of it if it comes by again. If I think it's safe I'll relay a message with the emergency ident lock so only you can open it, but it might not be so if you don't hear from me, don't come." She hesitated, looked like she wanted to say something else, but all she said was, "See you, Riddick."


	24. Chapter 24

He was not going to let himself wreck this ship. He was not going to let himself wreck it while he didn't have another means of transport. He tried very hard to remember that as he starred at the ship's display which had lately delivered a message from a wayward kid. He was absolutely, positively not going to smash the console.

He was, however, pulverizing the empty copilot's chair into an unrecognizable heap of metal.

"How did she get off this ship?" he asked.

"The copilot jettisoned three survival cocoons with separate trajectories."

He ground his teeth together. "What. Were. The. Trajectories?"

A hologram appeared charting the ship's course from Centurion. "Pod #1060: Ejected one standard week from outset, on this trajectory." A second course appeared, charting a lazy spiral away from the ship. It was headed into a gravity well in a really roundabout way. It was a good decoy. "Pod #1061: Ejected one standard week from outset, on this trajectory." Another course cropped up on a straight-away, headed towards a small, unnamed planet with a relay station. It was the smart route for someone looking for a redirect. "Pod #1062: Ejected one standard week from outset, on this trajectory." The last was a slow mover with a pattern like a sine curve played out in three dimensions.

"Trace Pod #1062 to the end of its trajectory."

It followed a long run, playing off gravity fields almost haphazardly. It looked as though the pod had been fired in haste and had a couple near misses where it got lucky, but five near misses is past the bounds of luck. A course like that was risky. The slightest miscalculation would result in a rather messy end. A solar flare, a star gone red giant, a passing meteor. Anything was enough to wreck that kind of flight plan.

He'd gone under on the fourth day, and the pod had been launched on the seventh. Three days was sufficient to plot a course like that. Jack was brave enough to do it, and smart enough to succeed. The pod disappeared when it entered Aquilan space. Probably picked up by an escort. The whole course would've taken almost a year.

A year. He'd been asleep for more than one standard year.

"Current position of this vessel?"

"The ship is in free space. Nearest habitable settlement is Taurus 4."

"What?"

"The ship is in free space. Nearest-"

"I fucking heard you! What the hell do you mean we're near Taurus 4? Where is the Suel ship?"

"The Suel vessel was not on its expected trajectory. It was not encountered."

Riddick felt his pulse pounding in his ears. He'd missed the connect. He'd lost Delroy, and the stupid fucking ship hadn't woken him the fuck up because they were too fucking far from habitable space.

He spun around to look at his cryo unit. Two years. He'd been asleep for two kali god damn years because a fucking ship's computer didn't know to wake him up when something changed. It just let the mother fucking cryo cycle time out. And to top it all off, Jack was fucking gone! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

Riddick broke his mental resolve not to smash the console. He broke a lot of things.

* * *

Jack was almost surprised how easy it was to slip onto Helion Prime unnoticed. A fake name and passport that would barely stand up to a cursory glance, let alone an inspection, got her safely through the terminal and out of registration. Helion Prime turned out to be exactly what she'd thought it was: an arrogant world. Sure, they put on a good show of checking private vessels, but if Riddick decided to hop a shuttle from an Allied world, they wouldn't even give him a hard look before passing him through.

She almost managed not to resent the citizens. Almost.

It was a bit more difficult to slip into New Mecca, but she managed. After all, she was on Helion Prime already. She had an automatic defense. When the soldier starred hard at her transit record she gave him a big smile and said, "It's my first time out of the Aquilan system." He'd glanced up at her, back to the ident code on her passport, and let her enter the city.

Finding Abu turned out to be almost challenging. He kept a pretty low profile for a member of the senate. It took two days to track him down. In the end she stalked his daughter home when she spotted her at the local bazaar and then waited for him outside. No sense scaring the kid. Or his wife. Close to dusk he came strolling down the roads, hands clasped behind his back lost in thought. Her first thought was how much shorter he seemed. He still jumped like he'd stepped on a snake when he was startled, though.

"As-salamu alaykum, Imam."

He squinted into the darkness of the alley, stepping closer. Trusting of him. "Who's there?"

She couldn't quite suppress her grin as she moved into clear light. "Long time no see, Abu." His hands produced a pair of glasses, explaining the squint. "Vision go bad, old man, or did you just forget about me?" She knew it was a little unfair. She looked almost nothing like she had the last time he'd seen her, but it was fun to watch him puzzle it out.

"I'm sorry, young lady, but I don't know your face. Who are you?"

"Two years ago you sent a message trying to find someone."

That struck a chord. His eyes went wide, the scent of sweat coming up strong. He glanced around in sudden apprehension, but Jack held up her hands in the universal gesture of peace.

"Relax, Imam. It's just me." She didn't say he wasn't there, but Abu wasn't stupid. He knew what she meant.

"Jack-"

"You're mistaken," she said patiently but with a little force. "My name is Kyra. Maybe we could speak inside. You know, catch up a little?"

He had the good grace to look a little flustered at the slip, using her real name. "Uh, yes. Certainly. Let's... step inside." He ushered her to the door with admirable restraint. She felt a little bad about blind-siding him like this, after all the poor guy was really trying to roll with the punches, but she knew nothing else would've gone unnoticed. Quiet city, quiet world, quiet tactics.

At the threshold she paused for a moment feeling a strong sense of... something, but it was gone before she could follow it through. It reminded her of the moment in Dave's room, standing between him and Riddick. She felt as if she was being carried along on a stream, as if she could almost see it to its end...

Abu called out, "Lajjun? Are you here?" He didn't quite believe that Riddick wasn't here, then. He had to be sure. Not so trusting after he realized Helion hadn't kept her out. She looked into his face drawn slightly by fear and thought he looked almost... humble.

Jack tried not to feel smug about it.

Lajjun was more beautiful in person than in her pictures. She had regal features, and deep eyes. Ziza was more restless; curiosity radiated from her like light from her planet. Jack couldn't help but think it wasn't a healthy attitude to have towards a killer. The irony was not lost on her.

Abu's relief was palpable. "Lajjun. Ziza. I'd like you to meet Kyra." He only stumbled a little over the name.

"As-salaamu alaykum," Jack said again, but this time they both answered, "Wa alaykum as-salaam."

"Will you be joining us for dinner, Kyra?" Lajjun's dark eyes flickered back and forth between Jack and her husband.

"Oh, no, I have some business to discuss with Imam, that's all. I hope it won't be too disturbing to your routine." Jack wondered whether Lajjun was the jealous type. A sixteen year old woman comes to talk business with your husband. Might send up some red flags.

Abu walked over and whispered something in her ear. Her posture changed from subtly suspicious to highly concerned. Her hands shifted on Ziza's shoulders. "No," she said tensely. "It will be fine. Come, Ziza." Over the girl's protests, Lajjun deftly maneuvered her into the kitchen and away from Jack.

Looking rather uneasy, he opened the door to a small office. "We can talk in here." Every wall was lined in bookshelves.

"Nice sound-proofing."

"Yes. Let us not dance around this issue, Jack. Where's Riddick?"

"Probably on his way," she answered, leaning against the desk.

"You don't know?"

Jack laughed. "Oh, no, I know he's coming. It's just a question of whether his cryo cycle has timed out yet." Jack rolled her eyes at his confusion. "Oh come on, Imam, like Riddick was going to voluntarily cross the galaxy to come help you."

"You said he was coming."

"He is coming, but not for you. He's coming for me." She gave that a minute to sink in before she said, "I think maybe it's time you told me just what kind of trouble this world is in."


	25. Chapter 25

Abu looked away, his face lined in the poor lighting. The room was dim at best. Set up for Riddick? Jack sat down in the chair behind the desk and waited. Abu paced. He pretended to look over his books but he didn't see them.

"Two years ago you sent a message," Jack prompted.

"Yes," he said softly. His voice was low, heavy. "I sent a message at the behest of the Helion Council. I was approached by... people, who knew of my association with Mr. Riddick. They needed to find him, and they thought I might know a way to reach him."

He's holding something back. "You didn't mention me in the message," she pointed out.

He looked down. "No, they did not mention you and I thought it was best if they remained... uninterested."

Best for me. That's... sweet. "Who's looking for us?"

"The Elementals."

"Well... that's... unexpected." Jack rocked back in the chair balancing on the back legs, studying her fingers. "If the Elementals are involved, then this is a bigger problem than I thought. Not just a Helion problem but a universal problem." Abu tensed. "And there's only one universal problem that I know of at the moment."

He met her eyes directly for the first time. "Yes. They are coming. Here."

Jack brought the front legs of the chair back down. "How do you know?" She tried to conceal the burning curiosity in her eyes.

"We can't be certain yet, but the Elementals have been tracking their movements. They have attacked the Suel homeworld. It is obliterated, like the Coalsack planets before it. They are on a course for this region of space and this is the largest beacon in the galaxy. They may not come here first, but they will not pass us by." He sat down in the other chair, looking very worn. "The Silence is coming." He plucked off his glasses and rubbed a hand across his eyes. "I did not want to send for you or Riddick. I wanted to leave you in peace, but I was not given a choice. If the Elementals had not asked I would still have done it alone. He is our best chance, Jack."

Jack leaned forward resting her elbows on her knees. "All right, I'm going to assume the Elementals are right in thinking that. At least I assume it was the Elementals who thought it. They are in the business of odds." Compulsive gamblers in charge of the fate of the universe. Almost as good as Riddick being the hero. "What do you need him to do? He can't fight an army on his own."

"That I do not know."

Jack held back a sigh. "Imam... I left him on a ship in the middle of nowhere without telling him. I left a - I don't know what you want to call him. A psychopath. A sociopath. A cold-blooded killer - who is going to come here on a straight shot with the biggest chip on his shoulder known to man. I did it because I knew you needed help, and I knew if you were asking us, you needed it bad, and you're telling me that you don't know what I'm supposed to tell him when he shows up ready to do gods' know what to me?

"I'm not asking you to take responsibility for my choices but at least give me the facts so I can try to keep my ass in one piece when he gets here. Work with me."

"I don't have all the answers, Jack." He spread his hands before him. "I am just the messenger, but I can arrange for you to meet with the person who does."

Jack stood up. "When?"

His eyes flicked back and forth across his desk, once again not seeing a thing his eyes touched. "Half an hour. It will take that long for them to arrive."

Jack thought about it. "All right. Call them. Get them here." I've come too far to back out now. She pointed to the com pad on the desk. "Don't tell them anything but to come."

She stood and watched while he made the call.

"As-salaamu alaykum... Yes, this is Senator al-Walid... Yes... Yes... Tell her I would like her to come... No, not to my office. To my home... Yes... Yes, she will be secure." He glanced up at Jack on the other side of the desk who kept her face purposefully blank. No promises, Imam. "A half hour from now, if that is possible... All right... Yes, I will expect her shortly. I will see you soon... Good-bye."

"Good," Jack said as she crossed to the door. "Now, show me the upstairs. I want a room with exits. Lots of exits."

He frowned. "Why?"

"Imam, don't mistake my help as my trust. I have no reason to believe that your friends are my friends. I'm here to help if I can, but I'm not here to be taken advantage of." He opened his mouth to protest but she went on, "What's to say your friend isn't going to decide the best way to control Riddick is with me?" And it is.

Abu thought about it, opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again, his face resolving into something like a decision. "There is a meditation and prayer room with full-length windows on two sides and access to the roof. It has many exits."

Jack nodded. "Curtains?"

"Linen gauze."

"Show me." He led her upstairs past the questioning eyes of Ziza and the fearfully certain eyes of Lajjun to a room that was fairly perfect for her needs. She could be outside and gone in less than a minute if need be. There was even a tree for easy access to the street, but if she needed to run Jack thought she'd prefer to take the rooftops. Easier for putting distance between herself and her pursuers. Like an Old Earth Boy Scout. Always prepared. Curtains could be thicker, but it should be fine.

"You can see the front door from here," Abu said, gesturing to the window closest to him. "You will know when they have arrived." He stepped closer to her, shifting his weight back and forth. "I - Thank you. For coming. For choosing to help us. I do not know how this meeting will end, but... thank you for what you've done. I know what Mr. Riddick means to you, and I know what you are risking to be here." He glanced up at her, and away, and then fled down the stairs.

Jack heard him arguing with Lajjun in heated whispers. Another whisper came to Jack from the hall. The whisper of cloth.

"It's not nice to spy on people," Jack called out softly, stepping back into the shadow of the wall.

Ziza peeked her head around the corner. She looked around the room, trying to spot Jack. "Hello? Where are you?"

Jack slipped behind the girl and leaned down to whisper close to her ear. "Does your mother know you're up here?"

Ziza jumped and spun around, her eyes wide with a strange combination of fear and delight. "I snuck away."

Crouching down to sit eye-level with her, Jack said, "She'll be angry when she finds out. Your mother doesn't want you talking to me."

"Why?"

Jack considered for a moment. "She wants to keep you safe."

"Are you dangerous?"

That Jack didn't have to consider. "Yes."

Ziza bit her lip, glancing behind her to be sure no one was watching. "Your name isn't really Kyra, is it?"

"Why do you think that?"

"You're the girl who ran away with Riddick, aren't you? To learn to fight monsters? My father tells me stories about you. He said you wanted to be strong and that you went away to learn how. He said-"

Jack put a finger to her lips, because Ziza's voice was getting steadily louder. "Someone's coming," Jack whispered. "Run back to your room, quick!"

Looking panicked, Ziza bolted down the hall, fairly quietly all things considered, but not quiet enough. Lajjun stepped into view with her eyes fixed on her daughter's room. She looked so heartbroken. It reminded Jack of her mother's face in the hospital.

"You know," Jack began congenially, "The park down the street looked lovely earlier this afternoon. I bet it would look even better by starlight."

Lajjun turned wide eyes to Jack, surprise and uncertainty warring on her face.

Jack went on, "It would be a good place to wile away an hour or so quietly. My business should be done by then. At least for now." Maybe for good. "Or maybe Ziza would like to spend the night with a friend?"

Lajjun cast about as though lost and looking for an anchor, but eventually her eyes came back to Jack, resolved. "I don't think that will be necessary." Her words were clipped, but her gaze had softened in a way that told Jack she was no longer the enemy. She wasn't a friend, but it was a start. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"A water would be fantastic."

"I'll bring it up."

"Thank you." Jack turned and studied the altar. It was non-denominational. Just a cloth over a low table with incense and two candles on either side. There was a prayer rug on the ground before it. Seized by a sudden urge, she lit a stick of sandalwood and knelt on the rug with her eyes closed, breathing deeply. She felt her mind grow still, and let her senses stretch out as she'd done in the pod so many times.

She heard the wind rustling the curtains lightly, the wax fizzing slightly as it burned in the candles, the restless shifting of Ziza down the hall in her room. She heard Lajjun leave the water by the door, and Imam pacing in the foyer talking to himself. She smelled the aroma of curry coming from the house next door mingling with the sandalwood. She felt the fibers of the rug under her fingertips, rough by nature and softened by use.

She let the seconds tick past. She waited.

There was a knock at the door.


	26. Chapter 26

Seven people. Six men and a woman who was... gone. She vanished under Jack's scrutiny. Right, the Elemental.

Trying not to feel her stomach clench, Jack crossed to the threshold and grabbed the glass of water. She poured it out in a zig-zag line across the entrance. Hearing the voices from downstairs grow louder, she tried to keep her footfalls silent as she hefted the surprisingly heavy prayer rug into a corner. Only wooden flooring now. No hiding wet footprints.

The stairs creaked under the weight of their bodies. Dust swirled in the room, released by her rough treatment of the rug. She breathed in the musty odor and took up a position by the altar. Close to both windows, but not so close that she looked ready to flee. Keeping up appearances was so important.

The men wore boots, and face masks. They didn't notice the water, although Imam looked confused about the discourteously moved rug. He didn't say anything. One set of unattached tracks circled the outer edge of the room.

Jack smiled serenely. "Your footsteps are showing."

"Who is this you've brought me to see, Mr. Al-Walid?" An older woman with the whitest hair Jack had ever seen coalesced near the wall. "It is not who I was expecting."

Looking rather uncomfortable, he ducked his head. "This is an associate of Mr. Riddick's. She has... influence with him. This is Aereon, the Elemental envoy to the Helion Council."

The woman wrinkled her forehead, thinking. Assessing. And in the end, taking the best guess. Always guessing. "Audrey Cochise?"

Jack showed her teeth. "I used to be."

"That was quite clever with the water." Aereon stepped closer. "How did you think of it?"

Testing me? "I'm a problem solver." Jack looked at the other men. "Take off your masks."

They looked to Imam, who nodded. Jack looked at Aereon, who looked somewhere between pleased and annoyed. Jack tried to puzzle that out without being obvious.

One of the men stepped forward. He had an open face, at least from what she could see. He had not removed his mask. "We are representatives of the Council, Miss Cochise. Elected officials." He waited. Jack said nothing. "We are here because we believe Mr. Riddick may be able to help us. All of us." The man looked back and forth between Aereon and Jack. "Are you... able to speak for him?"

Jack watched Aereon flickering in and out of sight according to an inconsistent breeze. She looked... calculating. Jack caught Imam's eye. "Would you gentlemen excuse us for a moment? I'd like to have a word with Aereon privately." Jack smiled winningly and did not wait for a response. "Thank you."

They looked about uncertainly, then filed out when Imam gestured for them to do so.

Jack called out softly, "Oh, and gentlemen, don't come back up with your masks on."

Definitively pleased, Aereon moved closer to the center of the room. "You're not what I expected, but then as I said, I wasn't expecting you. Mr. Faraj had a valid question. Do you represent Mr. Riddick?"

Jack worked hard to keep a straight face. "As well as anyone can. I can't speak for him, but I'm here on his behalf."

"To do what, exactly?"

"To hear your request. I assume it's your request since I doubt the Helions would suggest a serial killer as their champion." It was Aereon's turn to say nothing so Jack went on. "Why him?"

"Because he is the only unconverted male Furyan we can find and because when you need someone killed, a killer is often the best choice."

Not the whole story. "Why do you need a Furyan?"

"A male Furyan." Aereon drifted aimlessly closer to Jack. Jack let her for the moment. "What do you know about the Silence?"

Jack shrugged. "They're an army of sorts. Some kind of religious order trying to depopulate the universe. Of course none of that would be a problem if they weren't so good at it."

"Necroism is their dogma, and they believe that life is an error to be corrected. They will not stop until this is done. Not just life here on Helion, but all life across the universe." Aereon paced to the window and back. "There have been increasing numbers of communiques from conquered worlds. The footage we have from Coalsack is unspeakable." She drew in a deep breath. "We have tried sending envoys to negotiate. We have tried bribery... They are uninterested in anything other than killing and converting."

Jack thought she heard fear in Aereon's voice.

The older woman stopped her pacing, standing tall and looking deliberately worn. "When the current Lord Marshall came to power, there was a prophecy that a child would be born on the planet Furya, a male child, who one day would cause the Lord Marshall's destruction. Cut the head off the snake and it cannot strike. We have no choice but to try."

Jack tried not to laugh. She really did, but looking at Aereon's careful demeanor, conveying just the right amount of determination and reluctant bravery, Jack couldn't help it.

It took her two minutes to finish. Aereon was not amused.

* * *

It would take three weeks at top speed to reach Helion space. Not long, all things considered. Too damn long for his tastes but at least he wouldn't have to sit around for months. Small favors, since there was no way he was going into fucking cryo again for as long as he could stand it. If Jack could spend a year alone and awake in an escape pod he could handle three weeks on a ship.

But three weeks is a lot of time to think. The mind gets up to all sorts of things when it has nothing better to do.

There were things he tried not to think about, with varying degrees of success. He steered himself away from thinking about why Jack left him in the first place. Solved nothing, and it left his head pounding along with his pulse. Tried not to think about what she'd look like, too, but hey, he'd be seeing her soon again anyway. Figured he might as well try to desensitize himself in advance.

That was his story, and he was sticking to it.

He started having some crazy dreams, though. He dreamed he was in a cemetery with some woman whose face he couldn't get a good look at. He dreamed he was on an ice planet full of monsters. He kind of liked it there. Felt nice and homey, but no Jack. He dreamed he was back where he grew up with his foster sister. Woke up angry and wanting blood but that was long done. And he couldn't take revenge twice, no matter how he might like to.

The weirdest dreams were the ones with Jack, or with what he imagined she'd look like. Dark, hair, new angles and curves, all un-touched, at least by him. She talked while he was fucking her, told him things he needed to know, but she felt so good he could never remember what she said. He had wet dreams like he hadn't since he was a teenager. Made him real curious to know what she'd actually feel like beneath him in the dark.

Broke a few toys when he finally did get to Helion Prime, but he didn't feel too bad about it. They should've made stronger ships. He ditched his along the banks of the river leading into the capital and hid out on a boat taking cargo to the market. Didn't bother cutting off his hair. It was a good disguise. Lots of people there sporting dreadlocks.

He did shave off the beard when he got to Imam's place. He tasted Jack's scent rolling through the air, but it was old. Considered tracking her down, but he let it wait. He'd waited long enough. What were a few more hours?

After a little consideration, he shaved the dreads off, too.


	27. Chapter 27

It was easy to slip into the dream. Easy to fall asleep, really. Boredom was an excellent motivator.

Nobody seemed annoyed. "Here again?"

Ignoring her tone, Jack sat up a bit too quickly leaving her a bit dizzy. "The safe house is boring. Too much time to think, but on the plus side I'm pretty sure I've finally figured it out," she said, looking into the distance.

Nobody shifted her position on the bench, making room for Jack to sit down if she wanted. Jack did and settled herself next to the woman.

"What's that?" Nobody asks.

"Who you are." The wind whipped sand past them, stirred to an unbearable frenzy by Jack's restlessness. "I've had nothing better to consider this past week."

"How dreary to be somebody." Nobody looked questioningly at her hand held out before her. "How public, like a frog / To tell your name the livelong day / To an admiring bog!"

Jack held out her hand next to Nobody's. They were the same. "I'm nobody! Who are you? / Are you nobody, too?"

Nobody frowned. "We're not the same."

"No, we're not. I'm not you, and you're not me, but we were both once Audrey Cochise."

Nobody nodded. Unperturbed, as always. Her hair spilled riotously over her shoulders, deep brown like earth. "I don't think you're supposed to be here this much."

Jack shrugged. "There's nothing else to do. I've been sitting in that stupid house for days now. He's still not here." _Maybe he's not coming._

Nobody shook her head. "No, he's coming. There's something..." She trailed off, seeming unfocused. Nobody seemed strangely insubstantial. "Something is..."

Jack frowned. "Are you okay?"

Again, Nobody shook her head, dismissing the concern. "That's not important. I don't think..."

"That's right. You don't think." A voice like caramel. Jack turned around to see a black woman standing behind her, heavy with child. "Took you long enough to figure it out. I've been waiting for you to get rid of her. I was beginning to suspect you weren't going to make it."

Jack frowned. The woman was imposing, demanding. _Insistent._ Jack decided that was the word she was searching for. "I didn't get rid of her. She's me."

The woman smiled. "Not anymore."

And she was right. When Jack turned to look, Nobody was gone. The desert was gone. They were in a small garden behind a house.

"I'm nobody. Who are you?" Jack murmured. Absurdly, she wanted to cry.

"You no longer have need of her. She was just a guide. Like a sign post on the road, pointing the way to your destination." The woman moved to sit on the bench beside her. Jack stood up and moved away. As if that were the most polite thing in the world, the woman kept speaking. "Congratulations. You've arrived."

Jack grimaced, not caring to know this new intruder into her dreams. She'd had her fair share over the years. First Nobody, then Fry. Johns. Dave. Even Riddick. All people she knew. All people who were hers, not like this callous bitch who didn't care that Jack had literally just lost herself.

Jack wiggled her toes into the soil. It was damp, almost wet. _Is this even my dream?_

"You're not what I expected."

Jack showed her teeth. "I get that a lot. What were you expecting?"

The woman measured her against some invisible rubric. "Someone more selfish. Someone with fewer ties. A Furyan, maybe. It would make sense, cosmically speaking."

Jack didn't bother answering. She knew this woman didn't really want her to speak.

"But you," the woman mused. "You are something else. There are more hands on you than mine."

Jack laughed. "What about my hands?"

"Yours are there, too," the woman confirmed. "Would you like to come inside?"

The door to the house stood open. It was well-lit, and she could see a kitchen, but something about it made Jack stop. She stared hard into the other woman's face. It was open, friendly looking. Overly dignified, maybe, but under it... there was something...

_She looks sly._

Jack said, "No. I'd rather stay out here."

The woman nodded. "That's for the best, I think, considering what's coming."

"Is that why you're here?" Jack felt eyes on her and turned to look. A row of sun flowers - red sun flowers? - stood at her back. Their heads bobbed heavily forward, swaying in the breeze. Each one seemed aware, somehow. A chill ran up her spine when she realized there was no wind.

"Why do you think I'm here?" The woman had moved away, towards the back of the yard near a tree.

Jack didn't like the tree, but she moved toward it anyway. "What are doing?"

"Feeding it." The woman answered. She had something in her hands. Something small, and struggling.

Jack didn't want to see. She couldn't look away.

"You see, sacrifice is demanded, and we must pay it. The only question left is who. A choice must be made and you will be the one to make it. There are three lives in your hands. One is your own." Jack still couldn't see the small struggling creature but the woman was offering her a knife. Jack took it. It was a hatchet. An axe.

"Does it always do that?" Jack looked at the weapon in her hand.

"Only when you hold it. A sacrifice is demanded. Blood must be spilled. Whom will you choose, Jack?"

Jack dug her toes into the wet earth and knew it wasn't rain.

Her eyes snapped open with the awareness that someone was in her room. She kept her breathing even and measured. No sense advertising she was awake. She laid still, listening to the quiet breathing, the small sounds of fabric brushing on skin as the body padded across the room. Someone behind her, and low to the ground.

A smile spread across her face and she rolled as though still sleeping, one arm draped casually over the edge of the bed...

When the little girl shifted again Jack snagged her around the waist and pinned her to the mattress. "It's dangerous to sneak up on people while they're sleeping."

Ziza's eyes were bright and gleaming. "I heard them talking downstairs. I knew you'd want to know. He's come!"

Jack sat up so suddenly the girl gasped. She felt a little bad about that, but she had to know if he really was there. The dream was fresh on her as she paused in the door frame, glancing back at the confused looking child in her bed. She offered an inviting smile by way of an apology. "You coming?"

She waited long enough to see the grin light up Ziza's face before plunging into the darkened hall. Jack heard the girl scramble out of bed to follow.

Voices floated up from the den, intentionally hushed to avoid waking her.

_Obviously not planning on telling me._ She made a mental note to take Ziza out for ice cream if she got the chance. Her heart was pounding in her chest with a mixture of fear and anticipation. _He might kill me,_ she contemplated. _He might not,_ she argued.

Ziza peered over the edge of the railing, her eyes flicking between the sliver of room she could see and Jack.

"Stay here, okay?"

ZIza nodded solemnly and said, "Be careful."

The urge to laugh was strong. Jack bit her lips to master it and replied, "You should be worried about them." She touched Ziza's head for a brief second, then slithered down the steps.

Imam paced in the den around the one lit lamp. Lajjun and Aereon were seated on the couch. Jack got the impression they were arguing with him.

"She must be told," Abu hissed. "She is in danger."

"We are all in danger," Aereon murmured.

Abu laughed. "On that, we are all agreed."

Aereon sighed.

_This isn't the first time they've been through this._

"While we are all agreed on the fact that Mr. Riddick is dangerous, the issue at hand is Miss Cochise. If we want his cooperation she is our best bargaining chip."

Lajjun shifted uncomfortably. "I don't like the idea of lying to her."

Abu looked relieved. "That is precisely my point. She is in as much danger as all of us. Perhaps even more. Lying will only endanger us, and if she finds out we have done such a thing, she may... withdraw... her support." Even Aereon had no reply for that. "You cannot contest that she is our best chance of enlisting his help."

Aereon pursed her lips. "We do not need her cooperation to use her as a bargaining chip."

Lajjun's eyes snapped shut and Jack weighed her options.

"I don't think you want to try talking to him without me," Jack said calmly, stepping into view. "He tends to eviscerate first and... well, there isn't really a second. It mostly stops with the disemboweling."

All three of them stared at her with varying degrees of fear. Lajjun looked as though she might be sick. Imam straightened his posture and watched her warily. It was a look she recognized from the canyon. Aereon's gaze was, as always, calculating.

"Well, that solves the problem of what to tell you," she said congenially. If nothing else, Jack had to give it to Aereon: the woman had no shame and made no apologies. She was unabashedly herself. "We may as well bring you up to speed. How much did you hear?"

Jack moved to lean against the entry-way, glancing up at Ziza. Jack tossed her a wink and crossed her arms. "I got the gist."

Abu's eyes followed hers and she saw him realize who was responsible for outing them. The barest hint of a smile teased his lips before vanishing utterly.

A little desperately, Lajjun said, "Jack..."

"It's okay, Lajjun. Aereon is just considering her options." Jack locked eyes with the elemental. "She has a couple realistic ones. One is to lock me up somewhere a lot more secure than this and tell Riddick the Necros have me. Another is to lock me up and try to sell me to him. Save the world, get the girl, yours to do with as please. Something like that, I'd imagine. It might work. Or you could let me talk to him and explain why I left, and why I'm staying and only have one potential enemy instead of two."

"What guarantees do you have that he'll side with you?" Aereon seemed to be considering. Weighing Jack's ability to make good on her threats, maybe. It was a safe bet there was a pro con list involved and a mental simulator calculating outcome percentages.

"None. What guarantees do you have he won't cut his way through this world to find me when I'm not the first person he sees?"

The older woman smiled. "None."

Jack showed her teeth. "I can guarantee that I'm not your enemy, and that if you choose any option other than the last, I will be." She let Aereon mull that over and added, "I'm a good friend to have when you're dealing with Riddick." Vaguely Jack wondered if Lavezoli and Dave were still alive. She thought of the tree in the lady's garden.

There was a long silence. Aereon sat, totaling sums and calculating means and weighing the benefits against the risks. Imam gripped his wife's shoulder and she reached up to cover his hand with her own.

They waited.

Aereon turned her head away. "Mr. Al-Walid, would you mind calling my car around?" Her eyes returned to Jack's, mischief written in her eyes. "Do you need any time to prepare?"

"No," Jack answered.

"Have it swing by immediately. No sense wasting time."

Two minutes later the car arrived and Jack was ushered out to a car so nondescript it practically had "Government Official" carved on its perfect black exterior.

_I hope he sticks around long enough to realize it's me when he sees the car._

Aereon gazed politely out the window on her side.

Jack frowned. "Letting me talk to him isn't the mathematically sound option, is it?"

The old woman's lips turned up in a smile. "No, it is not, but then, I sometimes find the maths are not representative of the best option." She looked at Jack conspiratorially. "I am something of a rebel, on occasion. I would appreciate if that stayed between us."

Deadpan, Jack replied, "I will take it to my" _potentially imminent_ "grave."

Aereon smiled. "I can count on you, then."

"Yes. I think you can."


	28. Chapter 28

The house was too still. Not a single dirty dish in the kitchen. Shower was bone dry. A fine layer of dust laid on the counter top. Everything inside was settled. Nothing had been moved for at least a week. Riddick stood in what had been Jack's room, thinking.

Trying to think really. Mostly he was breathing deep and contemplating jerking off.

There were a couple of possibilities.

1) They could be in hiding. They knew he was coming - Jack knew he was coming - and they booked it with her the minute she got there.

2) They could all have been taken - unlikely given the state of Jack's room. She would have left a sign if someone took her by force.

3) They could be somewhere close by, waiting.

His gut said three.

He didn't have long to consider, or maybe he was distracted for longer than he thought as he moved through the small room touching the things she'd touched, breathing in the scent of her. A car pulled up outside. Black paint. Black windows. Black diplomatic flags.

_Huh._

When the kid stepped out, her eyes hit him like a fist. A very well-placed one. Those eyes went right to him, even in the dark, even in the shadows of the house.

_Can't hide from her._For some reason that put him in a bad mood so he pushed it away. He focused on her instead.

Five foot six. Maybe a hundred and twenty pounds. Dark brown hair, like good coffee. Soft waves in it. He thought she'd be curly. She was all grown up and in the flesh. His dreams were nothing compared to the genuine article. That was the skin he ached to bruise. There was the mouth he'd cover with his own. And the long, long legs he'd spread wide...

She hesitated, like she knew what he was thinking. Like she might leave.

He took two steps toward her before he finished the thought.

Someone inside the car said something. She looked back.

His whole body was tense, ready to stop her if she went to get in, but she only said, "No, you don't have to. I'll, uh, I'll call when we're done." And then she shut the car door. Her eyes found him again before she moved out of sight, into the house.

Riddick found a nice, deep patch of shadow in the corner. The car drove off, probably not too far, but far enough. The houses on either side were quiet.

_Alone at last._

She was still good. All that time and she hadn't forgotten. Her steps were silent in the otherwise empty house, but he could sense her coming closer. He closed his eyes, listening, feeling her move.

She was in the foyer, edging along the wall. She came to the stairs, rolling up them like fog. She was in the hall way, ghosting past doorways and nearer to him.

He drew in a heavy, wet breath, and as she rounded the corner, he was rewarded. Sandalwood, sweat, but the taint of puberty was gone. The smell of arousal had replaced it.

Had she been fucking when she got the call that he was back? Or was it for him?

She stopped in the center of her room, her eyes scanning, searching. She said softly, her voice cracking only a little, "Riddick?" Just like the canyon.

And he thought his cock hurt before.

* * *

There were things she'd forgotten about him, things she hadn't known were missing from her private memory reel. Things like the sheer size of him, a darker darkness in the black. How he took up more space than he really ought to. How he moved; the threat of him. How it felt to look up into those eyes and know...

How he could disappear in an otherwise empty room, even with his eyes, even with his mass.

How you knew he was there even if you couldn't see him. Like a monster in your closet, looming, waiting for you to close your eyes. Waiting.

He'd changed her room in Imam's house just by being in it. She could feel where he'd been, how the air currents were different because he'd passed through them. It felt occupied, and considering it was supposed to be hers - had lately been hers - that was a very uneasy sense.

_Steady, Jack._

She moved to the center of the room near the foot of the bed. Her senses were all sharpened and high, waiting for a sign that might not come.

_You won't even know he's there until he's on you..._She cut that line of thought off where it was and called out softly. She said, "Riddick?"

The only sign she got was hot breath on her neck and he was there behind her, the heat of him pressing into her like a physical touch. She threw an elbow back and ducked away, but he grabbed her arm to keep her from going too far. She'd forgotten just how fast he could be. With an effort, she kept her breathing even and stopped herself from fighting to get away.

_This is why you came here, stupid. Don't be a coward._

Their eyes were locked as she stood up inside his grasp. He kept his other hand by his side. She got the impression it was deliberate, maybe just as deliberate as her non-reaction. Was he being cautious?

When she didn't move away he let go of her arm, seemingly satisfied she wasn't going to hit him again. He leaned a little closer and took a deep breath, smelling her.

Jack fought a little harder to keep her breathing even, and her heart rate down. She took it as a good sign that he hadn't fought back, but she wasn't prepared for how overwhelming it would be to see him. She hadn't factored in her own response. He was beautiful. She was torn between the urge to touch him and the urge to flee.

His eyes were still fixed on her when he made a low sound in the back of his throat that did strange things to her.

She tried to step back but her heel struck something almost immediately. The bed. She hadn't realized how close they were to it, hadn't been paying attention.

He smirked at her condescendingly. "Going somewhere again?"

She swallowed against the dry feeling that had sprung up in her throat, trying to keep her voice steady. "Not unless you want me to."

"Funny. You didn't ask what I wanted last time." Anger simmered in the words, deep and hot.

"I know. I'm sorry for that."

He cocked his head at her. "But not sorry you did it."

"No," she answered firmly. "It was the right thing to do."

He made a noncommittal noise, still staring at her. She wished he'd look away. His eyes moved smoothly from her face to her hair, down her body. It made her very aware of it in a way she usually wasn't. She wanted to put some distance between them, wanted to get away from the heat of him at the very least, from the smell of him invading her space. But to do that, she'd have to sidle away or get on the bed. Neither felt like an option.

Jack found herself staring at his lips just to look away from his eyes. They seemed too soft for his face, too lush. What would they feel like on her skin? She blinked. He was watching her with an intensity she had only ever seen once or twice. She felt liquid, as though every limb were boneless.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He was tense, from head to toe, restrained

_He's holding himself back, from me._A buzzing filled her ears. Dizziness rose in her like a tide. She had to go, had to get out. She went to push past him, brought both hands up to his chest and shoved, but it did nothing. He was too strong, too solid. He barely teetered before his hands were on her wrists.

He stepped closer. There was barely a foot of space between them. He said, "Jack..." It was the concern in his voice that stopped her.

_Don't run. He'll chase you._She shivered and held herself still until the shaking stopped. He hadn't let go of her wrists, but he hadn't done anything else either.

With surprising gentleness, he stroked he rolled his thumbs over her bones. The calluses on his fingers were rough and sent tingling sensations up her arms. The hard muscle of his chest was hot under her hands. She curled them into fists.

He said her name again. "Jack."

His eyes were still on her, still heated. She'd been stupid to touch him at all. She thought, _I can't handle this._ And then, _Neither can he._That thought helped. She took a deep breath. He was still rubbing her arms. She said, "Riddick..."

Jack didn't hear the noise he made, she only felt it, before he covered her mouth with his. She had just enough to time to realize he was moving and then it was all sensation. His lips on her lips, his hands in her hair, his body pressed against hers as she tipped back onto the bed. A startled sound escaped her.

He was everywhere, all at once - hands and skin and lips. Part of her was trying to find the best way to make him stop, and part of her was hoping she couldn't.


End file.
